


Beneath My Broken Feet

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, I can't believe I put in a fucking road trip, M/M, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, non-binary Hanji Zoe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 12:03:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 76,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6703831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas, and Eren doesn't want to live anymore.<br/>But leave it to Levi to be in the right place at the right time, and to make the decision to take care of the bright-eyed brat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There are going to be a couple of trigger warnings in this story that I'll tag at the beginning of each chapter, so read with caution.
> 
> Trigger warning in this section for a suicide attempt, some angsty schmoop, and Levi being a grumpy old man with a fowl mouth.

_Sister BITCHster:_

_srry, eren. need to rain check on christmas. smthing came up at college. make it up to you on new year? xoxo._

**_Message received at 12:00am, December 25_ **

Eren snorts, looking at the message from Mikasa for the seventh time. Yeah, something came up. Sure. More like she’s too busy partying to care about her brother.

As for making it up to him on New Year? As if. On New Year’s night, Mikasa will probably be partying louder and wilder than ever, drowning so many shots of vodka that she won’t even be able to form coherent phrases. On New Year’s night, Eren might not even be alive.

He shivers at both thoughts.

Really, Eren’s not even angry anymore. The initial rage from reading her message has since faded out into sadness. And with that sadness came the concern for his sister.

Is Mikasa taking her pills?

Is Mikasa going to therapy?

Is Mikasa eating?

The answer, Eren fears, is probably ‘no’ for all of them. Instead, she’s probably drinking and taking drugs, using up all the money Eren works his ass off to provide.

He scoffs, kicking a rock in his way before immediately regretting it when the impact of his kick jars his ankle.

 _Does it make you feel big, kicking the rocks?_ Eren thinks mockingly to himself, desperately trying to hold back his tears of frustration.

It’s nearly 2:00am, and Eren’s walking outside in the cold to try to dispel his loneliness and desolation. It’s nearly 2:00am, and Eren feels more alone than ever. 

It’s nearly 2:00am, and Eren thinks that with the way things are going, he won’t be making it to morning.

And yet, he still continues walking, a clear destination in mind that he doesn’t really want to think about, but he knows that he’ll have to think about eventually.

He tucks the phone back into his pocket after checking Mikasa’s text again, frowning a bit more as the words blur together when some hair and wind get into his eyes. He sweeps his boring, brown hair behind his ears, glaring holes into his phone as if it’s the route to all his problems. Both actions, however, prove to be fruitless because the wind blows Eren’s hair right back over his eyes, and his phone goes into automatic sleep mode after 20 seconds of unuse.

 _Stop being stupid,_ He thinks to himself again when a tears inches down his left cheek.

But it doesn’t matter what he thinks because more tears keep coming, and before he knows it, Eren’s walking blind and cold, wrapping his arms around himself to retain some heat.

It’s freezing, but what did he really expect for December night…err, morning?

The time doesn’t matter anymore, as everything seems to be blending seamlessly together. His thoughts swirl, and his legs feel heavier with every step. Eren shivers and wraps his arms even tighter when a strong gust of winter air blows through him. He stumbles on the uneven pavement, catching himself as his teeth chatter.

But it’s okay that he’s only in a hoodie, and that he’s freezing his ass off, because he’s almost at his destination anyway.

_It’s going to be okay._

Because who cares what Mikasa’s doing? Eren doesn’t care about Mikasa anymore. _That’s a lie._

Eren doesn’t care about anything, or anyone, anymore. _Another lie._

Eren doesn’t even care that he’s lying. _The biggest lie._

But none of that matters.

Because, tonight, Eren’s going to make an attempt on his life.

Because, tonight, Eren’s going to the bridge.

_And that’s the truth._

* * *

 

_Change contact name from ‘Mikasa’ to ‘Sister BITCHster’?_

_Cancel._

_Save._

Eren presses ‘save.’

* * *

 

_To Sister BITCHster:_

_Alright. I hope you shitfaced you son of a fuck._

**_Message deleted._ **

* * *

 

_To Sister BITCHster:_

_Right, like you’ll actually make it on New Year. You’re probably going to be too busy getting high._

**_Message deleted._ **

* * *

 

_To Sister BITCHster:_

_If you’re going to ditch me, at least give me a proper excuse._

**_Message deleted._ **

* * *

 

_To Sister BITCHster:_

_Please come home. I don’t think I can spend another minute alone in my—our—fucking apartment._

**_Message deleted._ **

* * *

 

_To Sister BITCHster:_

_Cool. I’ll see you on New Year’s Day._

**_Message sent at 1:19am, December 25_ **

* * *

 

The bridge is really quite beautiful at night, Eren marvels.

He glances at the water below, and he realizes that this might really be the end. Taking a deep breath, Eren steps closer to the railing, eyeing the puddles that have formed on the ground due to last night’s precipitation.

He glances around, noticing all the lights are still on in the buildings around the bridge. He even sees a lit-up tree through one of the windows, and the street lamps are decked out in fairy lights. In any other situation, Eren might stop to appreciate the sight.

It’s quite depressing that he chose Christmas to do some a gruesome deed. Christmas, the time that’s supposed to be spent warm and snuggled up with family. Christmas, the holiday that Eren hasn’t appreciated since he was young and naïve.

He wonders, for a split second, what Mikasa will think once she finds out. Will she cry? God, Eren hopes not. He can’t deal with her crying because it makes his chest hurt too much. But then again, if he’s dead, none of that will matter.

He inches forwards, closer and closer to the calm water below. _Sorry, water. But you’re about to be disturbed._

When Eren’s close enough to the edge, he leans into the railing, gripping the slippery surface with both hands as the wind threatens to tilt him over. His knuckles are white, and he shuts his eyes to get rid of the dryness.

_Now or never._

_It’s now or never._

* * *

 

Levi’s first instinct when he sees the kid on the bridge, just a tiny spec in the distance, is to call out. It takes him approximately three seconds to realize that that’s the stupidest thing he can do. If he calls out, the kid will surely jump, and Levi will have a dead body in the water below that he could’ve prevented.

Damn, he really didn’t sign up for this. And on a Friday night, for fuck’s sake. He already has a busy day ahead (not really, but Levi’s always been one to look for excuses), but this is what he gets for wanting a late night—or early morning—drive.

Turning off the engine and headlights, Levi parks his car a good 400 meters away from the kid—probably a boy, by the looks of it. Slowly, and carefully, Levi gets out of the car. Thank god it’s nighttime and pretty fucking dark out, or the kid would’ve surely spotted him by now. Levi leaves both front doors to his car open. That way, he can drag the kid in faster, and also, it makes less sound. Only an idiot would be out here at 2:00am on Christmas, so Levi’s not really concerned that someone’s going to take his things.

Also, he’ll beat the face in of whoever tries, so that’s a bonus.

It’s hard to tell from such a distance, but Levi’s sure that the kid definitely just inched closer to the edge. Fuck.

Levi walks forwards as quickly as he can without making a sound, closing the distance, albeit slowly, between him and the kid. As he gets closer, he notices a shift in the kid. Levi’s absolutely certain that the kid was trembling like a leaf before, but now he’s standing perfectly still, staring at the water below. That’s a bad sign if Levi’s ever seen on.

Levi really needs to hurry. Once he’s about 200 meters away from the kid, he breaks into a run, closing the distance even faster. His heart rate immediately starts to speed up, and it’s so cold out that Levi can see his breaths appear in white fog in front of him. Not to brag or anything, but Levi’s pretty fit. He goes out for jogs at least three times a week, and his work keeps him on his toes. That being said, jeans aren’t really good clothing to sprint in.

The kid turns around, surprised when he hears heavy footsteps behind him, and a look of panic flashes over his face. The stupid brat looks lost for a second, eyes splitting between Levi and the water below the bridge.

 _You better not jump, you stupid brat._  

The kid’s obviously not listening, seeing as he’s climbing over the railing now, and Levi pushes himself faster. The kid looks back at Levi, who’s almost close enough to reach him, but that just seems to spur the kid to get it over with faster.

Levi watches as the kid closes his eyes, breathing deeply, and he’s just about to launch himself over the edge when Levi gets close enough to wrap his arms around the kid’s waist and pull him back over to the safe side of the railing.

The kid does not back down without a fight.

His fist goes flying straight into Levi’s face as he starts to scream, and Levi tries to fight to urge to just dump the kid and go home. Is the stupid kid really worth it? Earth’s already overpopulated and it’s not like one kid is going to make a dif—

Guilt immediately shuts the thoughts down, but Levi still wants to bash the kid’s face in when he kicks Levi in the shin. Fuck, that hurt.

But Levi continues to drag the kid to his car anyway, because despite what Hanji and Erwin say, he does have a heart. Albeit a cold and black one, but it’s a heart none the less. (That was a joke. Pause to laugh.)

“Calm the fuck down,” Levi finally snaps when the kid manages to get Levi’s other shin. “I’m trying to help you here.”

The kid splutters, trying to swing his fist again, but Levi moves his face safely out of the way while still dragging the kid to his car. Why did he park so far again? Right, so that the stupid suicidal idiot wouldn’t jump.

“Help me?” The kid spits, and Levi’s sure that the kid must be crying because no one’s voice should sound so bitter. Well, except for his own. “You can help me by getting your fucking hands off me.” The Kid’s slightly out of breath, but that’s to be expected with the struggle he pulled earlier.

So, the Kid’s got sass. Not bad.

Even so, Levi’s pretty fucking annoyed. _Damn brats_ , He almost snorts. “Yeah, well if I thought that letting you kill yourself was the way to go, I would’ve left your sorry ass on the other side of the railing.”

Maybe that wasn’t the most eloquent or sensitive way to put it, and maybe Levi feels a little bit bad when the kid lets out a sob.

But it’s not enough to make him apologize. Well, at least not yet.

Once Levi finally makes it to the car, exhausted and out of breath, he manages to lug the kid into the front seat without as much as a feeble push from the boy. The kid makes a soft sound of protest, but he seems just as burnt out as Levi, only moving to muffle his sobs.

Yeah, Levi’s really starting to feel bad now.

He makes sure to push down the child lock so the kid doesn’t try to run, although Levi highly doubts he has the energy to do so anyway.

It’s when he starts the engine and begins to drive that the kid really starts crying. It’s not the loud kind of crying—thank god—but it’s heartbreaking and soft. The kid’s roughly wipes at his eyes, and Levi passes him a tissue from his pocket silently with one hand, the other still on the wheel.

The kid’s silent for a couple minutes before he speaks, and Levi’s not expecting the anger in his voice when the kid finally opens his mouth.

“Then why didn’t you?”

The kid sounds furious, even through the thick tears. His voice is fiery and—well—lively.

Levi shakes his head in disbelief. How can a kid with a voice so full of life want to die.

“Do you even hear yourself?” Levi demands as he stops the car at a red light.

The kid doesn’t answer, and all is silent for another minute.

The kid finally opens his mouth to make a quiet sound of protest when the car starts again, ignoring Levi’s kind-of-rhetorical question. The kid finally takes it upon himself to look around the car, only to have a sudden moment of realization. “Where are you taking me?” He asks, voice hitching as he grapples the handles of the car door. His presses his face against the window, nose against the glass as his eyes dart back and forth.

Levi snorts. “I’m kidnapping you and bringing you to a volcano to sacrifice you to Satan. To my house, obviously, what did you think?”

The kid seems to relax after Levi’s done talking, tissue scrunched tightly in his hands. Although his face is still streaked with tears, the kid actually manages to look relieved. “So, you’re not taking me back to my house?” He asks, voice muffled by the glass.

“Well, I don’t exactly know where you live.”

“And if I told you?”

Levi looks at the kid, thankful that there’s no other cars on the road. “Would you want to go home?”

The kid looks down, rubbing his cold nose from being pressed to the freezing window, and sniffles again before shaking his head. “No.”

“That’s what I thought.”

The kid’s silent after that except for a couple more unexpected sobs.

It’s at another red light that Levi really looks at the kid. “What’s your name?” He asks, and the kid looks up at him, shocked to be spoken to.

“Huh?” is his thought out response.

Levi rolls his eyes. He really doesn’t have time for stupid kids. “What’s your name? Or are you deaf as well as mentally retarded?”

The kid’s ears turn red, and Levi can see him swallowing his anger. Obviously, that doesn’t work because the kid’s next words are, “What the fuck’s your problem? Did someone shove a stick up your ass this morning or something? Who goes around, throws a stranger in their car, and then goes off the insult said stranger? What the fuck?”

Levi rolls his eyes again. Damn, this red light is long. “Listen, brat. I just saved your life, and I really don’t need this right now.”

“I didn’t ask you to!” The kid screams, banging his fists on the dashboard. Another round of tears makes its way down his face.

Levi massaged his temples and sighs, swallowing his sympathy. It’s far too soon to start getting attached to a stranger, after all. “Look, I’ve had a shitty day, and you’re making it even shittier. So how’s about you tell me your fucking name and we can go on in silence?”

Thankfully, the light turns green, and Levi can continue driving without the stupid brat’s spit flying in his face.

There’s a few seconds of silence—except the gentle hum of the engine—before the kid speaks up again, arms hanging loosely at his sides like a puppet with cut strings. “Eren. My name is Eren.”

All the anger seems to suddenly disappear from his voice, and Levi’s gut clenches uncomfortably. Guilt.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Although Levi’s words are snarky, they hold no bite. And the kid—Eren, seems to sense the gentleness behind the words too because he doesn’t retaliate.

“What’s your name?” He asks instead, and Levi’s infinitely glad that the shitty brat is finally cooperating.

“Levi.”

The rest of the car journey is spent in a peaceful silence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's kind of feel-good, I guess. I mean, there's some angst, and some hurt/comfort, but it's not too bad. I don't think there are actually any trigger warnings for this chapter other than some sadness.

“Get out. We’re here,” Levi says as he opens the door to Eren’s side of the car.

Eren has managed to somehow fall asleep in the ten minute car journey, and there’s no way that Levi’s dragging his sorry ass up the driveway to his house. Sure, Eren doesn’t look that heavy—he’s quite skinny actually—but he’s still several inches taller than Levi, and Levi has no intention to strain himself for a stupid kid.

Eren wakes slowly, head lolling to the side for a second before he opens his ridiculously big eyes. If Levi didn’t notice the colour before, he definitely does now. _Fuck_ , Eren’s eyes are pretty. They’re deep green, ringed in cold and speckled with hazel. Levi’s never seen anything like it.

It takes Levi approximately 7.6 seconds to realize he’s staring, and he stops, nearly growling with annoyance. The kid’s nice to look at, Levi will give him that, but Levi’s sure that the only feelings he should harbour for the kid right now are a little bit a pity and sympathy. Eren’s had a rough night, and he doesn’t need Levi’s stupid, lonely train of thoughts to get in the way of things.

“What?” Eren groans while wiping the drool away from the corner of his mouth with his gray sweater. Levi grimaces, scrunching up his nose.

“Get your filthy ass out of my car. We’re here.”

Eren sits up, rubbing his eyes for a second before nearly tripping out of the car and face planting on the pavement.

“What the fuck?!” Levi nearly yells as he lurches forwards to catch Eren. Eren just about crumples into Levi’s arms before staggering to his feet again.

“Sorry,” Eren mutters, wrapping his arms tightly around his torso, folding in to himself like he’s made of paper.

Levi’s a bit annoyed, but mostly, he feels the same pity as before rush through him again. He tries to swallow the feeling because he knows firsthand how annoying unwanted pity can be, but it still comes rushing out. Eren must see it written on Levi’s face too, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Maybe Eren doesn’t mind pity, or maybe Levi’s reading too much into the situation.

“You’re exhausted,” Levi states, and Eren really only has the energy to nod. As gently as Levi can, he takes Eren’s elbow as guides him to the front door. Levi’s not used to treating people with care, but he’s trying his best with Eren. He doesn’t need a terrified kid on top of annoying to keep him up all night.

Eren stumbles a couple times on the way to the door, and Levi fights to keep him on his feet every time. After the seventh stumble, Levi can’t help but bite out, “Jesus, kid, what did you have to drink?”

He’s surprised when Eren lets out a breathy laugh. “Nothing, although I’m starting to think that the juice I drank earlier in the day was spiked.”

“No kidding. You’re walking like a fifty year old sot.”

Eren laughs again, and Levi may or may not have stared. It’s not a nice laugh by any means. It’s croaky, and a little bit tear-filled. But the damn kid was still laughing, and Levi can’t help but be slightly surprised. Eren was about to end his own life not even 20 minutes ago, and now he’s laughing at Levi’s filthy mouth as if they’re old friends.

Levi uses his free hand that’s not guiding Eren to fish out his keys, and he unlocks the door quickly.

“Wipe your shoes,” Levi tells Eren before they step inside.

Eren sloppily wipes his shoes on the black rug outside the door, and Levi almost—no, definitely—wants to smack Eren in the face.

“You call that wiping? You’re shoes are even more dirty than they were before, if that’s possible.”

Maybe Levi’s being too hard on the kid, and maybe he wouldn’t usually mind a little dirt in the house. But Levi prides himself on being clean, and he just did the house tidying yesterday. His house is pretty big, and cleaning it is pretty tedious, so Levi definitely won’t appreciate Eren trekking mud all over the place.

“My shoes are probably dirtier than before because your rug is dirty,” Eren grumbles out, no real heat to the words.

Levi would retaliate, except the words are kind of true. He cleans his house, but he doesn’t clean the rug. Why would he? It’s not inside his house, so he doesn’t have to see it, and it’s only going to get dirty again in two seconds anyway.

“Just come in,” Levi says instead, “Before the bugs do.”

They both walk in the house, or trudge in Eren’s case, and Levi helps Eren to the couch after they take off their shoes. “You need a shower,” Levi says.

“Later,” Eren replies, lying down on the white sofa and closing his eyes.

Levi frowns, sitting on the smaller couch next to the one Eren’s on. “I’m going to make some tea.”

“I don’t want any,” Eren mumbles, mouth muffled by the cushion his head is laying on.

“I meant for myself, idiot.”

Eren doesn’t even have the strength to reply, and Levi takes that as his leave. He walks to the kitchen, rubbing around his eyes to try to relieve some of the ache. It’s been a long day, and he doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever made an effort to be so nice to someone. Well, calling someone an idiot isn’t exactly nice to most people, but Levi’s called people a lot of worse things. Ask his stupid friends, Hanji and Erwin, for instance.

Levi boils the water as gets out some of his loose tea leaves—there’s no way he’s using the packaged shit—and sets them on the counter. He opts for a caffeinated option once he checks the time and realizes that his shift starts in a couple hours anyway.

Levi’s just pouring the boiling water into his mug when he remembers something. Shit, it’s Christmas. And that means no work.

Wait, even worse, it’s the break time. Levi’s gotten so used to work that two weeks off sounds like a nightmare.

He bangs his head on the counter, groaning. Work off would usually sound good, but the distraction would’ve been greatly appreciated, not the mention that Christmas is also his birthday. And there’s also the fact that Levi’s a tad of a workaholic. Just a tad.

Fucking great. Just what Levi wants: no distractions, a shitty brat, and two depressing events compressed into one day. What a pleasant combination.

Levi has half the mind to bang his head on the counter again, but he decides against it. Instead, he takes his steeped tea back to the living room. He sinks back into the smaller couch, noting that Eren’s already asleep. Lucky brat. If only Levi could fall asleep that quickly.

He only has time to take a sip of his too-hot tea before the phone rings.

Levi’s right eye twitches in annoyance, and he can almost feel the headache coming back on. Who in their right mind would call someone at 3:00AM? He stretches to reach the phone, and his previous question is answered when an excited, “Short stack!” Is cried out from the other side of the line.

“Hanji,” Levi groans. “Why are you calling at the ludicrous time, and what the fuck do you want?”

He can almost feel their shit eating grin through the phone. “Oh Levi, you’ve always had such a lovely way with words. You really know how to make the ladies blush!”

“You’re not even a lady, so shut the hell up.”

“Right, right,” Hanji says dismissively. “Anyway, I was wondering if I could come by a little earlier than planned.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s Christmas!”

“But _why?_ ”

“Levi, it’s not good to be alone on Christmas. You’re already alone far too often. Also, I’ll come bearing gifts, not to mention that it’s also your birthd—“

“Okay,” Levi cut off their rambling. “Got it. I still have no fucking clue why you decided to inform me of this at three in the fucking morning, but okay. Come early for all the fucks I give.”

He can almost feel Hanji’s excitement buzzing through, and Levi really contemplates just hanging up on them. There’s a couple seconds of silence, and just when Levi’s about to put the phone down, Hanji speaks again, this time a little nervous.

“Well, you see. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Levi’s about to interrupt, but they hurry on. “I forgot my house keys, and I’ve just left Erwin’s house a little while ago. And well, you have a spare pair of my keys.”

“What didn’t you just stay at Erwin’s house?”

“Mike invited himself over. Or maybe Erwin invited him over. Actually, now that I think about it, it’s probably the latter. The guy always wants whatever excuse he can have to get me out of his house.”

“I can’t exactly blame him,” Levi mutters to himself, but Hanji hears it anyway.

“Levi, please. You know how Mike and Erwin are like when they get together! I don’t think I can survive another night of thin walls!” Hanji’s begging voice is truly pathetic, but all of Levi’s sympathy (more like cold apathy, ha!) was spent on Eren.

“Well, fan-fucking-tastic. I hope you enjoy hearing their moans because I’m not going to let you in the house.”

“I’m already half way there. If you don’t let me in, I’ll stay outside your door to serenade you—loudly, might I add—with Taylor Swift songs. And not her new songs either. I’m talking about songs from her first album. The really country ones that you hate.”

Levi’s eye twitches again, but his face is otherwise impassive. He’s far too used to Hanji pulling this shit to be surprised anymore, and he has no doubt that Hanji will actually follow through. Quite frankly, everyone can do without Hanji’s singing. Levi’s pretty sure someone’s lifespan decreases by ten percent every time they try to hum a tune.

Dammit, there’s really no getting out of this one. “I have someone over already. If you come over, don’t scare the kid,” Levi finally decides to say after 0.01 seconds of going through his options. (To be fair, he doesn’t have many options.)

The sudden squeal makes him hold the phone further from his ears.

“There’s someone over? Why didn’t you way anything sooner. If you said something sooner, I would’ve gone over sooner!”

 _That’s precisely why I didn’t tell you_ , Levi’s about to say, but it’s at this point that he hears Eren groan and sit up from the couch. “Who’s on the phone?” Eren asks, yawning. “And how long have I been asleep?”

Levi puts the phone on the table, Hanji’s squealing still audible, and addresses Eren. “It’s a…friend—“

“Best friend.” He hears Hanji cut in, voice muffled from the distance of the phone.

“—and you’ve been asleep for,” Levi checks the time, “Twenty minutes.”

Eren frowns. “Oh, it felt like longer.”

“Is that the kid?” Hanji screams, and the volume seems to shock Eren. “Don’t ignore me, Levi. It’s not nice.”

“She’s loud,” Eren remarks.

“No kidding,” Levi grumbles. “What?” Levi snaps to Hanji when he picks up the phone again.

“Good. So you’re not ignoring me,” Hanji says, voice slightly less deafening now that Levi’s actually talking to her.

“You’re not exactly easy to ignore,” Levi says.

“If I was easy to ignore, we wouldn’t be friends, and you would’ve avoided me after the day we first met.”

“I still tried to avoid you.”

“But you didn’t!”

“Because you followed me around like a stalker, and you threw rocks at my window,” Levi points out, trying to ignore Eren stifling his laugh.

Hanji disregards the last point. “Yeah yeah. The kid sounds cute. I expect a full introduction when I get there.”

“How are you even talking to me if you’re driving?” Levi changes the subject. Hanji probably noticed, but they don’t say anything.

“I have a blue tooth in! I decided to invest in once since, you know, Mike and Erwin always have a knack of calling when I’m driving! It’s so strange. I think I could definitely improve it. The quality’s quite poor, and it tends to cut off and lose signal when I’m talking to someone. I think a bit a rewiring could fix it, but maybe it’s just too small. I’m thinking of putting an antenna on it to catch better signal, or change the device altogether. I mean, it’s good base, but it’s really flawed, and the battery runs out far too easily. I’m thinking maybe—“

By this point, Levi’s already hung up, and he goes back to his tea.

“She seems…interesting,” Eren supplies when Levi doesn’t talk right away.

Levi grimaces at the cold tea, wrinkling his nose. Gross. He turns to Eren after setting the tea down, slightly disappointed that he didn’t get to enjoy it. “They,” he finally remembers to correct.

“Huh?” Eren looks puzzled.

“They, not she. And yes, they’re quite…different.”

Eren smiles. “Different isn’t always bad, you know.”

Levi snorts. “It’s bad if it’s Hanji.”

“Is Hanji their name?”

“No shit.”

“Jeez, no need to be grumpy.”

“Yeah, well I would be less grumpy if a kid wasn’t in my house right now.”

Levi knows he’s being irrational, but he can’t bring himself to car. He’s exhausted, and annoyed, and his birthday/Christmas has always been a bitter time of year for him.

“Listen, old man,” Eren starts, and he doesn’t even falter when Levi glares. “I don’t care about your shitty day or anything, but you have no right to be so fucking rude. You brought me here. I didn’t ask to be brought here—” Eren took a deep breath, and Levi can see tears glimmering in his eyes. “—I didn’t even ask to be saved!”

Levi begrudgingly stops with the glare, feeling a bit guilty and very exasperated. “Listen. If I didn’t save you, someone else would’ve stumbled across your dead body, blue and bloated, floating in the lake, and that would’ve probably scarred them. So if having favours done for you bothers you, just think of it as a favour for the poor soul who would’ve found you.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“It wasn’t supposed to.”

Eren looks down, angry tears dripping down his chin.

Damn, this kid really knows now to tug as Levi’s conscience.

Levi sighs, moving to sit on the couch that Eren currently occupies as tilts his face up gently. “Listen, Kid—“

“Eren.”

“—Alright. Listen, Eren. Life sucks. Life is full of shit, but mostly, life is a blank canvas. It’s dull and white and boring. Or maybe it’s dull and gray, or dull and black. The point is, life is what you make of it. Sometimes, you’ll be thrown in a shitty situation, but you can change that situation around. If you just—” Levi grimaces, searching for the right words. By now, he can tell that Eren’s undivided attention is on him, eyes wide and imploring—begging for something to latch on to. Levi almost turns away from the eyes, so full of anger and pain, but he doesn’t. He keeps looks into Eren’s eyes, fingers holding his chin up so that they have full eye contact.

Levi starts again. “Right. So life is horrible, I get that. And life is a dull ass canvas filled with an abundance of nothing. If you want something better, brighter, _whatever_ , you better be prepared to add, or paint, it yourself.”

Eren stares, and another tears starts to make its ways down his cheek before he starts sobbing. It’s so sudden, and Levi’s hand falters away from Eren’s chin. Eren’s head droops down, and his entire body collapses into itself onto Levi’s chest. Eren wraps his arms tightly around himself as if he’s trying to hold himself together, longs and thin limbs tangling together. He really looks like a doll, delicate and fragile, and Levi awkwardly wraps his arms around the lanky boy, trying to comfort him.

“I don’t even paint,” Eren sobs out.

Levi laughs lightly, bitterly, at the words. “Well, neither do I. But I’m full of shit anyway, and I read something like that before, so I spouted it.”

Eren lets out a distorted, watery giggle. “I think Patrick Stump tweeted that.”

And Levi laughs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn't edited, so sorry for the mistakes and choppiness.  
> Read on, pioneer.

When Hanji lets themselves into Levi’s apartment at around 4:00am, they don’t expect to so see him sitting on a couch with an adorable boy sobbing into his lap. They definitely don’t expect Levi to be _stroking_ the boy’s hair.

Hanji can feel their mouth open, close, and open again as a grin takes over their face. A ‘shit eating grin’, as Levi would call it.

Levi turns to them, poker face intact, but Hanji’s known Levi for a long time and knows that he’s probably flustered as hell under his ice-cold exterior. The boy turns around at Hanji’s entry too, roughly wiping the tears away as his ears slowly turn red. Based on Hanji’s experience, it’s probably embarrassment from being caught in a moment of weakness.

Poor kid. And he’s so cute too! Oh, Levi’s definitely scored on this one. Although, Hanji has a suspicion that Levi’s probably the reason the boy’s crying in the first place. Levi has that effect on people.

“Shorty, what did you do to make such a cute thing cry?” Hanji rushes forwards, dodging the remote that was thrown at their head, to coddle the poor soul.

“I didn’t make him cry, you idiot.” Levi frowns, mulling over his thoughts. “Or maybe I did.”

The kid looks between the two of them, finally settling for staring at Hanji. Oh, he’s just too cute! Hanji could just squeeze him!

“Are you Hanji?” The boy asks, and Hanji can’t help but squeal.

“Oh, Levi, the cutie knows my name!”

Eren flushes.

“ _He’s_ right here, and his name is Eren.” Levi says, voice flat.

“A fitting name! A cute name for a cute boy! And oh, Levi! Look at those eyes! Aren’t they stunning? I’ve never seen eyes so green. I didn’t even know such an eye colour existed!”

Eren flushes deeper.

“I’m right here,” Eren says, scrubbing again at the drying tears.

“My point exactly,” Levi says pointedly, glaring at Hanji.

“Don’t be like that,” they pout.

Really, Hanji can’t be blamed. It’s just so exciting! They can’t even remember the last time Levi’s had someone over who wasn’t Hanji or Erwin. Ever since Farlan and Isabelle, Levi’s had trouble getting close with anyone.

Hanji frowns at the though. It worries them, although they’ll never say it out loud. Levi’s important to them, and they hate how he shut himself off from the rest of the world after his brother and sister died. For the first few months, Hanji accepted it, seeing it as his coping mechanism. But after an entire year, they started getting concerned. And now, six years later, Hanji’s glad to see that Levi’s finally let someone else in.

Hanji doesn’t know who Eren is, and they really know nothing about him. But he’s so cute and frail, Hanji really doubts he has any bad intentions. Not to mention that he was literally crying on Levi’s lap a minute ago.

Hanji’s a psychologist, and although there’s no way to know how someone is without getting to know them, Hanji’s pretty sure Eren’s not the most mentally healthy. He seems sad.

A frown works its way onto Hanji's face, but they quickly plaster the smile back on. It’s time to meet the cutie properly, after all. There’s no time for melancholy thoughts!

kneeling by the couch, Hanji reaches out a hand to poke Eren’s cheek. Eren sits up, bewildered, and gapes. “What the fuck?”

Hanji jumps back up, bad thoughts still lingering, but dispelled for the moment. “Can we keep him, Levi? He’s so cute! And his cheeks are so soft.”

Levi rubs his temples, and Hanji almost laughs at the familiar sight. Yeah, they definitely get a kick from riling Levi up.

“Oi, shitty glasses. He isn’t a zoo animal.” Levi says, exasperated.

“I’m right here!” Eren adds again.

“We know you are, idiot. None of us are blind, although Hanji’s getting pretty close.”

Hanji looks at Eren and rolls their eyes, pointing at Levi and stage whispering the words _, “He’s a grumpy old man, isn’t he?”_

They smile when Eren laughs, and they can’t help but ruffle his hair slightly. It’s even more endearing when he laughs again at Levi’s scowl. Oh, Eren’s too perfect.

Levi’s scowl deepens even further, and Hanji can’t help but chuckle.

“Just get what you came for, shitty glasses, and get out.” Levi growls, getting up from the couch with his cold cup of tea.

Hanji smiles cheekily, ruffling Levi’s hair for good measure as well. They, however, regret almost instantly when Levi punches them hard in the shoulder. “Ow!” Hanji yelps, rubbing the sore spot.

Eren shakes his head, hiding his grin on his tear-tracked face. Hanji has to hold back from hugging the poor soul. “Levi, you shouldn’t hit people,” Eren jokingly chastises, and those words solidify Eren’s place in Hanji’s heart. If Hanji wasn’t already in a committed relationship with their job, or in love with annoying the hell out of Levi, they would’ve definitely gone for Eren. Hanji can already tell that he’ll be a great friend to rant to, and an even better friend to pull pranks on Levi with. Granted, Levi always manages to catch the pranks before they actually happen, but with Eren’s help, maybe Hanji can finally trick Levi! Maybe Eren will actually listen to her novel plans or her ideas about planting a carrot seed inside an apple tree to see how it’ll grow. Or maybe he enjoys science, or the art of psychology. Perhaps he could proof-read Hanji’s draft for the psychology research project they’re doing. Oh, or—

“Yeah, Levi. You shouldn’t hit people,” Hanji finally remembers to echo after cutting off their own train of thoughts. They really need a brain filter. But Hanji guesses that’s why they have Levi. Levi’s great at cutting them off.

Levi shakes his head. “Why are you all against me? Fucking brats.”

“I just don’t like midgets,” Eren says, grinning when Levi shoots him a glare before slapping his head. Eren rubs his head, glaring right back at Levi.

Hanji laughs loudly at the exchange, bending over to clutch their stomach. Oh, Hanji’s so glad Levi decided to keep this kid, even if for a little while. Eren’s absolutely golden! He even went as far as to glare back at Levi, and no one’s done that since...ever. But Hanji’s no fool, and they can tell that there’s a tense and serious atmosphere between Eren and Levi, and that they shouldn’t come between the two…yet. Levi’s always on edge, but it seems like he’s especially jittery for Hanji to get out of his house this time, and that’s saying a lot, so Hanji decides to cut the visit short.

“Right, I’ll get what I came for, and I’ll leave you two alone to whatever you were doing before. But please be done with it soon. I’d like to come back later for Christmas dinner, and I really won’t appreciate and Erwin and Mike situation going on here as well.” Hanji can’t help but be a little suggestive, even though they know that nothing’s really going to happen between Eren and Levi. Hell, Eren and Levi probably just met. Even so, Hanji really can’t resist the urge to jab at Levi any chance they get.

“Just get out,” Levi says tiredly, back from putting away the tea. He completely ignores Eren’s blush as well, although Hanji finds Eren’s innocence a bit endearing. Eren may not know who Erwin and Mike are, but Eren definitely understands the implications.

“W-we’re not like that,” Eren splutters, face red, and Hanji can’t help but laugh again.

“I know, kid,” Hanji says, patting Eren lightly on the shoulder. “I was only teasing.”

Hanji goes to the drawer on the desk next to the television, and they shuffle through the papers for twenty seconds in search of the keys. “Aha,” Hanji says, fishing out the keychain, decorated with cat stickers and rainbow key holders. “I’ll be going now.”

They toss the keys in the air, catching them halfway, before looking back and winking at Eren. It’s awfully amusing when Eren flushes again, turning around to cover his face. Levi better keep this one. He’s precious, alright.

“Get your fucking ass out.” Trust Levi to ruin the fun. Hmph.

Levi opens the door, gesturing almost too forcefully for Hanji to leave. Hanji takes much glee in pinching Levi’s cheek on the way out, even when he kicks them in the ankle for doing so, causing them to stumble slightly. After Hanji rights themselves, they turn around and wave exuberantly at Eren. “Bye, cutie,” they call out, even if it’s just for one more of that adorable little blush.

It’s worth it, they decide, even when Levi goes out of his way to kick Hanji’s other ankle before he shuts the door in Hanji’s face, rolling his eyes at their cackling. After all, it’s always worth it. Otherwise, Hanji wouldn’t even bother with Levi anymore. But his reactions are always worth it, and if Hanji’s being honest, they’ve grown quite attached to the short midget. He’s great (horrible) company!

Yes, it’s completely worth it, Hanji thinks to themselves, even as they slowly limp away with a wide grin, accompanied by a grimace, on their face.

* * *

 

“Thank fuck they’re gone,” Levi groans, sulking back to the couch. He grabs a book off the coffee table, and he props it up on his lap to read.

“Really? I like Hanji. They’re nice.” Eren replies indifferently, lying on the sofa again.

Levi stares at the kid for a while, taking in his thin form, before snapping the book shut and putting it in its original place. “Hey, brat, you hungry?”

Eren looks up, face a mask of nothing, previous teasing qualities gone. Levi almost wishes for Hanji to come back, even if it’s just so Eren’s smile will come back with them.

“Not particularly, no.” Eren replies, sitting up to readjust his body before settling back down.

Levi ignores Eren. “Does pasta sound good?”

“No, I’m good, really,” Eren tries to protest again.

“Actually, since it’s early, cereal would probably be the better option,” Levi keeps talking as if he didn’t hear Eren.

Eren sits back up, and Levi gets a headache just by looking at Eren’s constant moving. “I said I’m not hungry!”

Levi continues to ignore Eren. “Maybe sushi? I think I have leftovers in the fridge,” Levi pretends to muse, tapping his fingers on his chin.

By now, Eren’s standing, fired up. Ah, there’s the spark that Levi wants to see. “What the hell?! Are you even listening to me?” Eren’s hands are balled up, and his teeth are grinding against each other. Really, it’s kind of alluring.

Levi lets a slow grin take over his features, even if the grins a bit scary looking—okay, very scary looking. Levi doesn’t have a lot of practice with smiling after all. “Eh,” he stalks over to Eren, studying the kid’s face.

It’s full of passion, and maybe a little bit of sadness. But the anger takes over the sadness momentarily, and Levi can see Eren’s fire. Eren stands stiff, completely still, but Levi can see the tremors running through his entire body. Levi makes a mental note that Eren’s easily frustrated.

That’s good, after all.

Frustration’s good because at least it’s _something._

And anger? Even better.

Don’t get Levi wrong. Eren’s still a brat, but at least he’s not a dead brat. They’ll definitely need to have a serious talk about that later, but the seriousness can wait for a little while longer. For now, Levi’s hungry, and he’s going to get some food whether the brat wants any or not.

“Not bad,” Levi mutters when Eren glares at him again.

At Levi’s words, confusion replaces the anger, and Levi takes great satisfaction in the fact that Eren’s so easily confused. Really, Levi loves it when people misread him, and the best part is when they come to the realization that yes, Levi’s a jerk, but he’s a jerk with feelings. And even better, he’s a _mysterious_ jerk. For some reason, people always pine after mysteriousness, and Levi’s got that to the T.

“Now, I’m only going to ask you this once.” He brings Eren’s face closer, but he stops when he notices Eren’s discomfort, leaving their faces an inch apart. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Nothing,” Eren spits back.

“You’re pretty full of bravado for someone who was crying half an hour ago.”

“And you’re pretty short for someone’s who’s so full of shit.”

“Oh?” Levi raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?"

Eren flushes pink, even the tips of his ears becoming a peachy tint, and Levi begrudgingly admits that Eren's really cute. But the kid’s also really stupid. Brave, but stupid. After all, those two things kind of go hand in hand.

“Whatever,” Eren mutters, moving to stand further away from Levi.

Levi smirks one last time at Eren’s embarrassed face before making his way to the kitchen. Eren might not want to eat, but Levi does. He opens his fridge and gets out the leftover sushi, he wasn’t lying when he said he had some, and pops it all on a plate before shoving it in the microwave. Sushi for breakfast may not be the healthiest option, but Levi’s been up all night and he could hardly care less. There’s also the fact that Hanji said they’re going to pop by _again,_ seeing as it’s the holiday season, and he really can’t face that idiot on an empty stomach.

After fifty seconds of warming the sushi, Levi takes the plate and a pair of chopsticks back to the living room. That’s right, Levi likes warm sushi. Feel free to judge.

Levi would normally eat at the dining table, but Eren needs some company. His heart feels heavy when he looks at the kid, and he can’t really fathom why. Actually, he can. It’s probably because he had to drag Eren away from a bridge earlier in the day. He doesn’t know what made Eren so sad to actually consider ending it all, but it can’t be good. Really, Levi’s not interested in a sob story on an already shitty day, but he’s willing to listen to what Eren’s got to say if he wants to talk about it.

Eren can talk about it now, or Eren can talk about it later. Levi doesn’t care as long as he gets to eat his damn sushi.

When Levi walks back to the couch, he sees that Eren’s sitting back on the big couch, and that he’s scooted over to make room for Levi. Levi begrudgingly sits down in the provided space, not wanting to upset the Eren any further than he already has in the short time that they’ve known each other. Levi has a knack for upsetting people, and Eren seems to be someone who’s easily provoked. It’s not an ideal match, but it’ll have to do.

“Do you want to talk about what happened at the bridge?” Levi asks stoically after swallowing his first bite of sushi.

“Maybe later,” Eren dismisses, eyes glued on Levi’s food. “I-I’m a bit hungry, actually.” Eren’s voice is a lot quieter than before, and he definitely doesn’t sound angry anymore. If anything, Eren seems nervous.

But— _fucking hell—_ Eren’s annoying. “I just asked if you wanted anything.” Levi says, voice controlled to keep the annoyance out. Maybe it comes out colder than expected, by hey, a bit colder can’t be too bad, right?

“I just wanted to get you riled up earlier…” Eren looks down, seeming close to tears ago.

Jesus Christ, this kid’s emotional. Levi sighs. “Right. Okay. I get that. I like getting people riled up too, but please be honest, or kind of honest, at least.”

Eren nods, still looking down, and Levi sighs again. This brat is really a test on Levi’s patience, and Levi isn’t exactly someone known to be patient. Even so, Levi tries his best. Wordlessly, since Levi’s no good with words, he shoves a sushi into Eren’s mouth.

Okay, so maybe Levi’s not known to be anything but rough, but in his defence, Eren did say that he was hungry.

“Umph,” Eren cries, mouth full of cucumber roll. “Wa da fu—”

“Eat. You said you were hungry.”

Levi’s trying, he swears. He’s trying to be kind, and patient, and polite, but it’s hard when he’s never done any of that before. He’s not a pleasant person, and it’s never really been a problem until now. He doesn’t know how to treat emotionally (and physically, looking at Eren’s body) fragile people like Eren.

Maybe Eren understands the sentiment, because he swallows the sushi without complaint.

“Now, when are we going to have this chat about the bridge?” Levi demands, and Eren blinks owlishly at Levi.

“Can I have another one first?”

Levi places the sushi roll into Eren’s hand this time, and Eren seems to appreciate the gesture because he eats the sushi quickly. After he’s done chewing and swallowing, he turns to Levi.

“Right, the bridge,” Eren says, although reluctantly. It’s obvious that Eren doesn’t want to do it, and Levi’s not going to force him. But even so, Eren’s talking, and Levi’s not going to force him to stop either.

“I was sad,” Eren starts.

 _No kidding_ , Levi almost wants to cut in, but he holds his tongue. They’re finally getting somewhere, and there’s no way that Levi’s going to ruin that because his verbal filter’s damaged.

“My sister and I had a fight, and I think that was the final straw, but things were already really bad before that.” Eren swallows hard, and he tucks his knees up to his chin, setting his feet onto Levi’s couch. With his arms wrapped tightly around his legs and his entire body compact, Eren look…well… _small_.

It’s depressing.

It seems that Eren’s having trouble meeting Levi’s eyes, and Levi can understand to some aspect how uncomfortable the kid must be. To share something so personal takes guts, and Levi’s infinitely glad that Eren has the right guts to talk about it.

“My mom died when I was fifteen, in March, and that sucked a lot. I think that maybe her death was the beginning of it all, and that it was what set off the snowball effect. My sister, Mikasa, fell into a hole—a metaphorical hole, that is—and was unable to get out. She virtually face planted into depression. I mean, I was sad too, but I don’t think it really hit me until Christmas that my mom was gone. There were no presents except for the t shirt I got for Mikasa, and there wasn’t even a tree. My dad started working a lot to blow off steam, and stress, and sadness I guess. I don’t really know. He was never home, and when he was, all he did was say shit things to me and Mikasa. He went on a trip to New Zealand with his work place, and he only came home for Christmas to drop off a fruitcake. He left before we even woke up…” Eren trails off, seemingly lost in thought, but he quickly flashes out of his reverie when Levi places a tentative hand on Eren’s shoulder. Levi only then realizes that he’s still holding the sushi plate, and he puts the plate down on the table with a heavy _clank._

“Right,” Eren continues before pausing to catch more of his tears. “I’m sorry, I’m a mess,” He sniffles as he draws his knees even tighter against his Chest. Levi’s certain that if he could read minds, Eren’s would be crying out.

Levi feels a pang in his chest, and the feeling almost shocks him. Actually, it _does_ shock him. Eren really knows how to pull on Levi’s heart strings, it would seem.

“Don’t apologize.” Levi says, trying to make his voice warm. He fails, naturally, but it’s not as cold as usual, and he knows that Eren notices.

“Okay,” Eren continues, slightly more hesitant. “Right. So, Mikasa was sad, and my dad was a dick.” Eren pauses for the third time, rubbing his eyes roughly. He’s not really crying, but Levi knows that he’s about to, so he doesn’t protest when Eren says, “Actually, Levi, I think I’m done for the day. Can I continue this later?”

Levi only nods and says, “Okay,” offering a hand to pull Eren up. “But you better help me wash the dishes. I have shit load that needs to be cleaned because Hanji decide to try and cook me dinner last night. And I also need dishes for the Christmas dinner Hanji’s apparently expecting tonight.”

“Are they really over so often?” Eren asks, voice still smaller than Levi’s used to for the couple of hours that he’s known the kid for.

“Yeah. And they don’t usually give me a warning like today. They just show up and fuck the place up.”

At this, Eren lets out a hesitant smile along with a shallow laugh. It’s not really a big accomplishment, but Levi can’t help but feel slightly smug.

It’s not easy to get someone from a dark emotional state to a light one in a matter of seconds, but Levi thinks that he’s done pretty well.

Eren trails Levi to the kitchen, and Levi’s surprised when Eren actually hops onto the counter, long legs swinging underneath him. It’s kind of cute in the what-the-hell-do-you-think-you’re-doing way.

Levi doesn’t even bother questioning it. As long as Eren’s washing, Levi’s content.

Eren picks up a plate, bending over slightly to reach the sink, only to get water everywhere when he brings the plate back up.

Levi sighs, exasperated. “You know, this would be a lot easier if you got off the counter.”

“I like it here,” Eren says defensively.

“Alright. Just don’t make any more of a mess.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Eren smiles cheekily at Levi, face bright. Levi knows it’s an act. It’s as obvious as a blaring siren, but Levi doesn’t call Eren out on it. If Eren wants to pretend to be happy-go-lucky for the time being, Levi will let him be.

Eren can be honest with his emotions whenever he chooses. For now, Levi will play Eren’s little game. After all, someone can only pretend for so long before they break.

There’s a comfortable silence after that, filled only with the sound of rushing tap water and scrubbing sponges. Eren and Levi work side by side, and Levi’s impressed with the kid’s diligence. It’s not too long after that all the plates and bowls are clean, and that there’s nothing left to do but wipe away some soapy water from the counter.

“When do you want to go home?” Levi finally asks, breaking the quiet.

Eren shrugs, looking straight ahead. “Whenever you want me to go, I guess.”

“I don’t care when you want to leave. You obviously have a reason for not going home, and I’m not going to force you to, but I would like to know the approximate time if you have one.”

Levi’s trying his best to be reasonable, but Eren makes it pretty hard. The thing with Eren is that Levi never knows what to say. He’s scared that he’ll say the wrong thing again, and that Eren will break. It’s not like he hasn’t already done it.

“Can I stay until after dinner?” Eren asks weakly, finally looking Levi in the eyes.

Levi thinks it over. It doesn’t sound too bad to have Eren over for a little longer. He can also distract Levi from Hanji’s constant pestering. Actually, after seeing how Eren and Hanji got along, Levi’s starting to think that the two might not be the best pair for a peaceful environment.

“Sure,” Levi forces out while struggling not to shudder at the thought of Hanji converting Eren to their ways, determined not to think too much into it. It’s worth it in the end because Eren beams like the sun. Levi swears that the kid’s smile can blind someone.

“Thanks, Levi.”

Eren rushes forwards to hug Levi, and Levi tenses his entire body. He’s not so used to physical contact, so when the thin arms circle around him, Levi’s not sure how to react.

Is he supposed to relax? Obviously, that’s not going to work out seeing as Levi’s coiled like a spring ready to explode.

“Sorry!” Eren steps back, sensing Levi’s discomfort. Eren’s entire face is red, and he’s about to open his mouth to apologize again when Levi cuts him off.

“It’s fine,” Levi says, and it is. He finds that he doesn’t mind the warmth that comes with Eren’s hug.

“Right, sorry again.”

“I said it was fine,” Levi snaps, but he immediately feels bad when Eren shrinks back.

Levi pinches his nose. Fuck, this ‘nice’ thing is harder than he thought. Maybe he should be the one apologizing, or maybe he should try to comfort Eren. What’s he supposed to say in a situation like this?

Lucky for him, Eren’s the one to break the silence. “Can I use the shower? I stink,” Eren says, turning away from Levi once again.

Levi blinks once, processing Eren’s words. Right, a shower. “I’ll get you a towel. The guest washroom is up the stairs and to the right.”

“Thanks,” Eren mutters, walking quickly up the stairs, not even bothering to look back at Levi. Poor kid, Levi must’ve really scared him. Dammit, he really shouldn’t work with children.

Instead of pondering too long on the subject, Levi goes to get Eren a towel and some change of clothes. No, the kid didn’t ask for it, but surely his clothes must be dirty after spending a night in them. Levi goes up the stairs once Eren’s closed the door to the washroom, and he goes to the room at the end of the hallway—his own room.

Once inside his monochrome aesthetic room, Levi rummages through the drawers rapidly, careful not the throw anything out of place. Clothes for the kid are going to be hard to find. For one, Eren’s taller than Levi, and much thinner. Levi’s slim, but not slim like Eren. He settles on a black sweater, regular boxer-briefs, and some sweatpants. Sweatpants are stretchy, right? And the strings can be tied, so hopefully they aren’t too big.

Levi takes the bundle of clothing, grabbing a clean towel on the way, and knocks on the washroom door.

“Come in,” Eren calls.

Levi walks in and sets the things down on the closed toilet lid. “Right,” he says awkwardly, and immediately wants to slap himself for it.

Eren doesn’t seem to notice the awkwardness. Instead, the kid’s looking at himself in the mirror. Levi watches as Eren runs a shaking hand through his brown hair. He takes a strand of hair, frowning at it, before noticing that Levi hasn’t left yet.

Eren tears his eyes away from his reflection and blinks owlishly at Levi. Levi raises an eyebrow, tossing a glance at the mirror. What’s so interesting about a reflection?

Eren blushes, knowing that he’s been caught, and scratches his head sheepishly. “I realized that I needed a haircut,” he explains.

“Huh, I can give you one.”

Eren’s eyes widen. “Really? Do you even know how to cut hair?”

Levi shrugs. “I cut my own. You can be the judge if it’s any good.”

Shower forgotten for the moment, Eren walks forwards star struck. He stops right in front of Levi and reaches a hand out to stroke Levi’s hair. Levi doesn’t stop Eren, shivering when Eren’s cold fingers touch his scalp.

“I like your hair cut,” Eren says, a little breathless.

“Good. So I take it that you wouldn’t mind me cutting your hair?”

Eren stops threading his fingers through Levi’s hair, body rigid. “Huh?”

“You’re hair,” Levi repeats. “Can I cut it?”

Eren blinks again, remembering the conversation. It seems like they’re both completely zoned out today. Levi doesn’t blame Eren. It’s a holiday, after all, and there’s also the fact that Eren tried to jump off a bridge earlier in the day. And it’s Levi’s birthday, the icing on top of the tooth-rotting cake. Levi almost wrinkles his nose at the thought, but stops himself last minute.

“Yeah, you can cut my hair,” Eren finally says, shaking his head to get rid of the haze. “But not now. I need a shower.”

Levi rolls his eyes. _This kid_. “I not talking about now, you idiot. Just take your goddamn shower so you can stop stinking up my house.”

Eren rolls his eyes right back. “Well, alright mister grumpy-pants. Get out.”

Levi almost wants to mock bow, but he settles for a slap to the back of Eren’s head, a teasing, “Oi, remember who’s house you’re in,” and a small smirk accompanied by a hair ruffle.

Levi walks briskly out of the washroom after, not sticking around to see Eren’s expression of surprise.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit choppy (once again), and I apologize for that. I tried my best to edit out any mistakes, but there's a pretty high chance that I missed some, so feel free to tell me so I can fix them. 
> 
> Trigger warning for mentions of suicide and self harm.

Eren doesn’t know how he got himself into such a mess. He thought that he would be dead by now. He wishes that he was dead by now. He’s not sure how he got from being a suicidal boy standing at the edge of a bridge to a suicidal boy in a stranger’s shower.

It’s all really confusing.

Sure, Levi’s offering some nice hospitality, but that guy seems to have a stick in his ass more times than not. He’s a total, complete, sexy jerk.

 _Whoa_ , where did the ‘sexy’ come from?

Well, to be fair, it’s true. Levi’s pretty short, but his build is strong, and his tight button-down shirt and skinny jeans define the harsh edges and sleek lines of his body. Yeah, Levi’s hot as fuck.

But he doesn't want to think about how attractive Levi is, because thinking about that makes Eren feel...icky. Icky in a way that he's not sure he knows how to describe except that it makes him itch all over.

Maybe it's the fact that Eren’s in Levi’s shower, using Levi’s shampoo, and using Levi’s hot water while having no idea on how to pay him back. He doesn’t have much money, juggling a job on top of trying to pay for Mikasa’s university. His dad’s a dead-beat, and not around at all anymore. Actually, his dad cut off all ties with Eren and Mikasa three months ago.

They’re both legal adults, but Eren still feels as if he’s too young to support himself, not to mention that he has to support his depressed sister as well. And now there’s Levi, and Eren’s not sure if he can make it through the guilt of having the man do so much for him.

And he’s staying for dinner! Why did Eren decide to stay for dinner again?

Right, because it’s Christmas, and Mikasa decided to ditch him because ‘ _something came up at college,’_ and he just really doesn’t want to be alone again for _another_ year.

The empty apartment is crushing and emotionally draining. But he doesn’t want Mikasa to know because she already has it too hard. Eren should be in university too, but he wasn’t smart enough to get a scholarship, and he doesn’t make enough money to support Mikasa even though she has a scholarship, let alone pay for himself.

Not that Mikasa’s scholarship is doing her much good. In fact, Eren will be surprised if she makes it through the semester without getting kicked out.

Even so, he’s decided a long time ago that he’ll always put his sister first. It’s the only selfless thing he has going for him these days, after all. But Eren can’t help but feel like no selfless thing can make up for the selfish act he was so ready to commit a couple hours ago.

_Suicide._

It’s such an ugly word.

When Eren was standing on the bridge, it felt like the entire world was ending. Realistically, Eren knew that it was only his world that was about to end, but it felt like everything was burning away before his eyes. When Mikasa told him she wasn’t coming home for Christmas, a part of him broke. All these years, Eren’s been looking after her, caring for her, paying for her doctor visits, paying for her anti-depressants, paying for her university, and she can’t even repay him by staying with him on his most vulnerable day.

He felt—and still feels—empty.

Hurt.

Isolated.

Cut-off.

Unneeded.

He’s already been hurting for so long, setting aside his pain to help his sister, and now she’s avoiding him. He just doesn’t understand why.

Standing under the scalding shower, it’s easy to pretend that he’s not crying. But Eren can’t fool himself despite how hard he might try. He can taste the tears, and he can feel the burn in his eyes as well as the burn in his chest.

Everything in him _aches._

But after so many years of pretending to be okay, Eren’s not sure how to do anything else. Levi brings out his moments of weakness. Levi, with his cold, gray eyes, and sarcastic words. Levi can break down Eren’s walls faster than Eren can rebuild them.

It’s frustrating.

And when Levi let Eren lay in his lap, and when Levi started stroking his hair, Eren felt _safe_. Eren hasn’t felt safety like that since his mom died.

And _Mikasa_. His mood diminishes just by thinking about her. There must be a reason that she’s not coming home for Christmas. Is Eren the reason why? He must be. He’s not good enough for her, and he doesn’t have enough to give to her.

 _But what else do I have to give?!_ His mind screams. And the problem is, Eren doesn’t know. He’s given away everything. He’s set aside everything to make sure that Mikasa’s okay—that Mikasa will have a promising future—and what’s horrifying to him is that he has nothing else to offer. He can’t provide for her. He can’t even provide for himself.

His world seems to be crumbling to his feet, and he’s the only one who can see it.

Eren sinks slowly to the shower floor, placing his face into his hands as the water cascades around him, suffocating him. He can’t help the sobs that flow out of him, quiet and turbulent. His shoulders shake, and he pitches forwards only to catch himself last second. Maybe he should just let himself fall.

It’s easier, after all, to fall. Scaling the cliff is hard. It require effort, sweat, and perseverance. But falling off the cliff, that’s the easy part. The only thing to do is to step off the edge and to hit the ground. Sure, the impact will hurt, but then it’ll all be over.

Eren’s almost ashamed to admit that falling sounds like the better option.

Eren sobs again, pressing his head to the shower wall, clenching his eyes shut to prevent anymore tears to escape. It doesn’t work. It never works, but he tries anyway.

There are bruises on his legs and hips from “accidental” clumsiness, and red and white welts decorate his arms from his daily sessions with an elastic band. The welts go all the way from his wrist to the crook of his elbow as a constant reminder of who he is. His shame, his pain, his life. All of it can be seen on his body. All of it is visible.

Nakedness has never felt more petrifying.

* * *

 

When Eren steps out of the steaming shower, the full chill of the air hits him. He rushes, nearly tripping over his feet, to wrap the fresh towel and Levi prepared around his shoulders. Goosebumps raise on his arms, and Eren shivers.

It’s freezing.

Eren dresses quickly, slipping on the clothes like there’s no tomorrow. The saying has never been truer. He doesn’t want a tomorrow. He wants it all to end tonight. But he can’t because Levi’s here, and Levi’s been nothing but charitable and kind-ish.

After dressing in the semi-comfortable clothing and placing the wet towel on the rack, Eren looks at himself in the mirror. He still finds his hair too long, and he hopes that Levi was being serious when he said that he would cut it for Eren. The sweater is big and baggy, and slightly short in length, but it’s warm, and that’s really all Eren can ask for. The sweatpants are warm too, and the gray cotton looks well-worn. Eren has half the mind to mind down and sniff them to see if they smell like Levi, but he realizes that that might be a bit strange. Curiosity killed the cat, after all.

Eren takes a step towards the mirror, a hand reaching out to touch his reflection, only brushing lightly on the cool surface of the glass before he pulls back. He doesn’t remember looking like this—gaunt and scared. His eyes are too big and bright for his pallid complexion, and he hates that he looks almost like a girl, but it’s the face he was born with and he doesn’t have any intention to change that. He takes one more step, hip bone banging on the sink counter. Wincing, he shuts his eyes for a brief second to ride out the ache.  

He’s surprised when the sweatpants slip right off.

Well, that’s embarrassing. And although no one’s there to witness it, Eren still burns with humiliation. When did he get so thin? He used to bit lithe with muscles, but now he’s just…skinny. Bending down, Eren brings the sweatpants back up and ties the strings as tight as they go.

It’s still not tight enough.

He lifts the sweater slightly, only mildly surprised that he can see the visible outlines of his ribs. He has to look away after of couple seconds, disgusted with his body.

Maybe it’s the exhaustion, or mental instability, but Eren finds this incredibly sad. If even little things can’t go right, how can the big things possibly work? He’s obviously unhealthy, and it’s ridiculous how even sweatpants don’t fit him anymore.

Slowly, without him even realizing, a tear drips down his face. Eren brings the sleeves of his sweater up to wipe away the tear, but he quickly brings his arm back down when a slip of his stomach starts to show. It’s pathetic, really, how the sweater not fitting right only makes him cry harder. It’s so stupid. Everything’s so _stupid_.

Eren feels idiotic, standing in front of the mirror and crying because the sweatpants are too big and the sweater’s not long enough.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

Eren doesn’t know if he does it consciously or not, but a loud sob ripples through his entire body, echoing around the small space.

He freezes, praying to someone, _anyone_ , that Levi didn’t hear it. He doesn’t want Levi to see him so weak, and if anything can go right today, please let it be that his sob goes unnoticed.

A knock on the door confirms that there’s no such luck.

“Eren, are you oka—”

Levi seems to cut himself off, muttering obscenities on the other side of the locked door.

“Of course you’re not okay. Forget that I was about to ask that. What’s wrong?” Levi asks instead, and Eren doesn’t know how to respond.

Is he supposed to tell the truth? Is he supposed to say that _no, nothing right? That everything’s falling down around him while he watches with broken eyes, and all his walls are cracking under the pressure._

Is he supposed to express that he’s sad? _That he’s so unbelievably sad that he wants to cry until his bones give out. That he wants to stop existing._

Is he supposed to scream out that _he needs help? Help, please. Why does it hurt? Why does it feel like his entire body is black and blue and that he’s burning alive? Why does it feels like he’s bit dipped in acid only to be wrung out and hung on a laundry line by the skin of his neck?_

Is it supposed to feel like this?

Is sadness supposed to be so demanding, painful, and profound?

Is living supposed to feel like a chore?

Eren doesn’t know anymore. It’s been so long that he’s enjoyed himself. It’s been so long since he last liked living and since he last _wanted_ to be alive. But still, he held on for Mikasa. But she’s moving on the bigger and better things, and who’s Eren supposed to hold on to? Who’s Mikasa holding on to? With their father out of the picture, who’s going to be the strong one? Yes, they’re both legal adults, but they’re still _kids_. Mikasa’s not even out of school, for god’s sake, and Eren can’t even _afford_ school. And although Eren’s trying his best, who’s supposed to be the parent?

_“Who’s going to take care of us—of me?”_

He’s not aware that he said that out loud until warm, strong arms hands are set on his shoulders, and a voice replies, “You’re not as alone as you think you are.”

It’s Levi, obviously, but how did he get in? The door was locked.

Eren’s question is answered when a key is placed gently onto the counter. His legs suddenly stop working, and he slips onto the floor, limbs folding underneath him. He’s surprised when Levi ends up on the floor right behind Eren, arms still around his body as their bodies stick flushed against each other. Eren must be sitting on Levi’s legs, considering their positions, but Levi doesn’t seem to mind.

“I don’t know you that well, bra—Eren. But I’m willing to help you, and I’m sure others are willing too. I can’t promise that things are going to be easy from here on out, and I know that you probably still want to die. But hey, you have me now, and you’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”

“But why?” Eren almost whines. “You said it yourself. You don’t know me. I’m just a stupid kid, a statistic. You never had to stop me from offing myself. You didn’t have to stop your car. You could’ve continued living your life like you never saw a stupid kid jumping off a bridge, and no one would blame you. Hell, I wouldn’t blame you. Actually, I would’ve preferred it if you didn’t pull me off the ledge.”

Eren’s full on wheezing now, breaths coming in short spurts. It’s so hard to talk, to breathe, or to do _anything._

He’s nearly hysterical when he leans into Levi, letting Levi support him completely. Levi holds him tightly, and Eren presses himself against Levi’s chest, surrounded completely by his warmth and comfort.

“I don’t _understand_ ,” Eren cries. “I don’t understand why I’m still here. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be fighting for. It _hurts_.”

Levi doesn’t respond right away, and the only sound for a couple of seconds is Eren’s frenzied weeping.

When Levi finally does speak, it’s with a quiet voice. “Eren,” he starts, and Eren tries his best to stop wheezing. “You’re here because you’re supposed to be.” Eren takes a breath, ready to interrupt, but Levi’s hand flies to cover his mouth. “Please, let me finish.”

Once Eren nods, the hand disappears from over his mouth, and Levi continues talking. “You’re not here to fight for your sister, and you’re not here to fight for your asshole father. You’re here to fight for yourself. Do you really think you’ve made it this far on the sole fact that you had something to grasp before? Well, you’re wrong. You’re still alive because you chose to be, just like how you were going to choose to die.

“You can kill yourself right now if you truly want to. I won’t stop you. If you really want to die, go ahead. But I’m going to tell you this. You think that no one cares, but they do. I’ll bet you anything that your sister will cry if you die. And we may have met only hours ago, but you better bet your sorry ass that I’ll cry as well. Sure, you think that your death won’t matter, and in the grand scheme of things, it won’t. But like you said, things can snowball. You said before that your sister’s depressed, and there’s no doubt in my mind that your death will crush her. Who’s to say that she won’t kill herself after? And after she dies, what about the other people who care about her? What about all the people you’ve touched in your life who are counting on you to live? How will they cope? You’re assuming that they don’t—and won’t—care, but who are you to decide how they’ll if you had jumped off that bridge?”

Eren shakes his head, trying to wiggle out of Levi’s grasp. Levi’s words dug a hole is his chest, and he’s trying his best to not make it look like he’s bleeding all over the floor, and that his pain isn’t leaking out of his eyes.

 “That’s the thing though, isn’t it? I haven’t touched anyone in my life. I haven’t done anything worth noting,” he spits, pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes to stop the liquid agony.

“You have.”

“But who? Name one person.”

“Well, there’s me for instance.”

It takes a while to process the words he just heart, but after he does, everything inside Eren comes to a halt, and he stops trying to escape Levi’s cage. “What?” He can't believe Levi. He can't believe that Levi's willing to stoop low enough to lie about something like this. There's no way that an idiot like him has touched Levi's life (in a good way, at least). It's stupid. It's so stupid.

The room is freezing again. Why is the room freezing again? And why is Eren suddenly so angry? The anger bubbles up, spilling out in waves, and he doesn’t try to stop it. It never works, anyway. His temper has never been his to tame, so why try now? Eren finds it easier, and more fulfilling, to just let it flow.

“Is this some sort of joke to you?” Eren hisses through his tears, voice weak despite how hard he’s trying to convey his fury. “Am I just a charity case? Do you get a kick out of lying?”

“No,” Levi states, tone blunt. “I’m being honest. You have passion. Like right now, you’re _angry_. Can’t you see how explosive you are?”

“Is that supposed to be a good thing?” Eren grinds out.

“Yes. It means that you feel, and you feel so much deeper than others. The way you experience things is so turbulent that the waves you give off can rock someone else. It’s people like you who make others feel the most.”

Eren stares straight ahead, processing Levi’s words as the rage flees his body. It’s then that the true impact of the words hit, and he keels over, upper body only staying upright by Levi’s hands.

“But I—” Eren starts, only to break off into broken sobs that he tries so hard to stop.

“Shhh,” Levi hushes soothingly, rocking Eren back and forth like a child. Because Eren _is_ a child, and sometimes what a child needs the most is simply the comfort and care of another. “You’re safe. You’re okay.”

Levi continues to talk in gentle whispers, and Eren continues to listen, only pausing to wipe at his eyes. When it gets especially hard to breathe, Levi starts rubbing circles into Eren’s back. And when it gets especially hard to keep his head upright, Levi let’s Eren lay his head on his shoulder. And when Eren’s eyes can’t stay open any longer, Levi tells him to close them.

It’s warm again, Eren remarks.

Together, they sit—entangled—on the cold tiles until Levi’s voice is nothing but a tired croak, and Eren’s tears dry out.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for a little bit of self harm (burning). It's only a little bit, and near the end, but still proceed with caution if things like that bother you.

Levi wakes up with a start on the washroom floor, cold and perplexed.

What the fu—

Oh, right. He must’ve fallen asleep trying to comfort the Eren. Speaking of said person, he's raid next to Levi, leaning against him in an almost constricting manor. Levi finds that he doesn’t mind it as much as he should, and that thought scares him enough to make him start to get up. He pushes Eren away as considerately as he has the capacity to do, trying to wriggle out from underneath Eren.

Eren stirs.

“Is it time for dinner?” Eren mumbles sluggishly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. His disorientation is cute in an annoying sort of way, but Levi shakes his head to rid himself of the thought.

“We would have to _make_ the dinner first, smart ass,” he responds, finally able to get up off the dirty floor once Eren shifts off his Legs.

Levi finds that his legs have fallen asleep in the time that they’ve been on the floor, and he shakes them briefly to get rid of the uncomfortable pricks and tingles. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Eren, and once he stands up he mumbles an almost incomprehensible, “Sorry.”

Levi shakes his head. “It’s fine. You apologize too much.”

They both dust themselves off, and when Levi sees the messy sweater Eren’s wearing, he can’t help himself. With a quick flick of his wrists, Levi smooths down the crinkles of Eren’s clothing, ignoring the surprised flinch. While he’s at it, he begins to pick the lint off Eren’s sweater for him too. Eren looks up, mouth open in shock, when Levi flicks a piece of fluff off of the clothing, pausing only to pick more off.

“You’re covered in lint,” Levi states the obvious.

“Wow, I didn’t notice,” Eren drawls sarcastically after collecting himself, and Levi lets out a chuckle while continuing to help Eren pick off the lint like a mother cat.

Fucking hell, Levi can’t believe he just thought that.

_Mother cat? Out of all things, why a mother cat?_

Shouldn’t he be something angrier, like a miniature bear? Or maybe a miniature lion…but that would just be a cat.

He doesn’t know what Eren’s doing to him, and he hopes that he never finds out. Levi’s never willingly touched someone before, but now there’s Eren, and Levi’s helping him pick shit off his sweater.

The world must be inverting or something.

And the worst part it, Levi knows that he’s enjoying watching Eren squirm every time he accidently brushes his pale fingers against the skin of Eren’s neck. Okay, so maybe it’s not so much of an accident, but that’s beside the point.

The point is that Levi’s grown attached to a kid who’s barely legal. Self-denial has never been Levi’s forte, so he finds that it’s best to admit it now. It’s not like him to be so quickly infatuated, but this situation’s not exactly normal. After all, it’s also not like him to save a kid from jumping off a bridge.

Levi finally retracts his hand, making a point to ignore Eren’s blush. This is all so stupid. It’s stupid to like a bumbling and blushing idiot of a kid, and what’s even stupider is that the kid seems to like him back.

Does Eren even know what he’s getting himself into? Evidently not, seeing as he takes another step closer to Levi so that their arms are touching.

What Levi’s most afraid of is that Eren’s only attached because it’s the first comfort he’s had in a long time. It’s highly probable that Eren’s just latching on to the first person he sees, and Levi doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want Eren to grow dependant on him, and he certainly doesn’t want Eren breathing down his neck every second and following him around.

In fact, Levi doesn’t mind sending Eren home right now.

Actually, that’s a lie too.

Eren’s obviously uncomfortable about something involving his house, so Levi has enough courtesy to let Eren stay over for a little while, if only to heal. His mental state is Levi’s greatest concern. He doesn’t want Eren hurting himself under Levi’s roof, or hurting himself at all for the matter. The though makes Levi’s chest clench in a way that it hasn’t done in a long time.

It’s pleasant in an unpleasant kind of way, meaning that although Levi misses the feeling, he would rather not be in this situation.

“I’m starting to feel claustrophobic. Can we please get out of this washroom?” Eren asks, already pushing past Levi to the door.

“You’re the idiot who decided to stay here,” Levi grumbles, fighting a smirk when he hears Eren’s laugh. Although it’s strained, at least it’s a start.

“Touché,” Eren says, turning back to smile at Levi before he exits the washroom, only stopping to shake his legs around for a bit.

It’s quite amusing, watching Eren almost bump into a chair before righting himself and walking away. He’s going to the kitchen, Levi notes. He’s slightly impressed that Eren figured out it was time to start preparing Christmas dinner. After all, Hanji will be over in a couple of hours, and Hanji always comes equipped with expectations too high for their own good.

Even so, Levi won’t change Hanji for the world, but don’t tell them he said that. They’re embarrassing enough as it is, and knowing Levi’s input will only make it worse.

He watches as Eren glances behind, beckoning Levi over, and Levi finds that it’s hilarious—and infuriating—how the kid already walks around like he owns the place.

When Levi brings a hand over to his face, he finds that his lips are stretched into a smile, and the very thought almost makes him want to turn to the nearest wall and bash his face in. He immediately frowns again, collecting himself. But when Eren bumps into another chair, cursing, Levi finds that the smile finds a comfortable home on his face.

And curse Eren for noticing and smiling back.

* * *

 

“Three cups of butter?” Eren asks, eyebrows drawn together in a puzzled line.

“No, you idiot. That says three tablespoons,” Levi snaps, still stirring the soon-to-be-rue. “Can you read?”

“Of course I can read!” Eren snaps back, face flushing as he puts the three tablespoons of butter in the hot pan. It’s not that Eren doesn’t know how to cook. It’s just that the ink of Levi’s recipe is all smudged.

“Right, of course you can. What do I put in next?” Levi says in a mock-condescending tone.

Eren pouts jokingly, surprised by the amount of ease he feels around the older man. Assumingly older, that is. Eren’s never bothered to ask for an age. As long as Levi’s not a secret 70 year old, Eren’s all set.

“The same amount of flour,” Eren replies.

Levi rolls his eyes.

“Hmm, so three cups of flour?” Levi asks. His voice is so emotionless that Eren can’t tell if he’s being serious.

“Are you teasing me right now?” Eren turns to Levi, grabbing for the spoon so that he can stir the melting butter. It’s almost funny when Levi grabs the spoon right back, shoving Eren away with a jut of his hips.

It’s _almost_ funny because it’s actually hot as hell. Levi must be doing it on purpose, and the thought alone makes Eren want to smile. Smile and crush Levi in a hug, and never let go.

“What do you think, brat?” Levi continues stirring the butter, not letting it brown, as he replies with a lighter tone than before.

So the old man can joke after all.

“To be fair, it’s hard to decipher your writing, so it wasn’t my fault,” Eren shrugs with a false breezy voice, fanning himself as he turns away from Levi.

Levi glares. “Say that again. I dare you.”

“I’m sorry, did you not hear the first time?” Eren makes his tone as innocent as it’ll go, and he finds himself trying not to laugh when Levi’s glare hardens. He surprises himself with how much fun he’s having, and he relishes in the moment, clinging onto the joy tightly because he knows that all good things will eventually come to an end.

“Oh, I heard you. I was just confirming something.”

“And what was that?”

“That you’re a stupid brat with a death wish.”

As soon as the words leave Levi’s mouth, the warm atmosphere diminishes. Eren feels the bubbling laughter turning into spreading coldness. It’s such a simple, simple joke, but Eren can’t handle it because he’s a brat and because the statements hits a little too close to home. He can’t help but feel overdramatic and needy when Levi drops the spoon and turns the stove off to comfort him.

“Shit, Eren, I’m sorry. That was a shitty joke made in bad taste,” Levi sighs, frowning as he pats Eren’s back awkwardly.

Eren simply shakes his head. It’s silly, after all, how badly a joke can affect him. “No, no. It’s fine. You’re allowed to joke around.” He tries to brush it off, but the damage has buried under his skin.

This must be a trigger, Eren deduces as the air around him seems to tighten.

_A death wish._

_Yes, I have a death wish,_ Eren’s tempted to blurt, but he gets rid of the words as fast as they come to the tip of his tongue. There’s no need to ruin a good mood.

After all, Eren’s already ruined too many good moods for another one to go down the drain.

At Levi’s unconvinced expression, Eren tries again. “Really, it’s fine. I’m alright.”

“No you’re not. You were shaking,” Levi points out, arms crossed.

“I’m serious. I was just a little bit surprised. I’m good now,” Eren tries his best to convey. He’s not sure who he’s trying to reassure more—him or Levi. Both of them, it seems.

Levi still appears uncertain, but he lets it slide. “Alright. If you say so.”

And Eren’s glad that Levi lets it go.

“But don’t think that we won’t talk about this later.”

Or not.

Eren understands the sentiment. He knows that Levi just wants to know what’s safe to say and what’s not. But Eren’s never been treated as fragile, and it’s a bit hard to swallow the fact that he’s actually being considered a part of the equation.

Well, that’s rather depressing.

But Eren doesn’t let himself deflate. After all, he needs to make an effort to make this Christmas a good one. Instead of moping, he reaches for the nob to turn the stove back on, and he forces a smile.

_Fake it until you make it._

Levi picks up the spoon, sensing Eren’s goal, and continues stirring the butter that has already started to congeal in the winter air. Eren spoons in the three tablespoons of flour, watching as it slowly dissolves into the butter.

“What’s next?” Levi demands after a minute of stirring, eyes trained steadily on the pan.

At first, Eren’s not sure what Levi’s asking. Then he remembers the recipe. Right. They’re in the middle of cooking, after all.

“Um…” He picks up the piece of paper and scans it until he finds the next step.

_Stir for one minute until combined. Yada, yada, yada._

_Aha._ “Add a cup of milk,” Eren tells Levi triumphantly, and Levi nods.

There’s a moment where Eren just stand there, unsure of what to do.

“What are you waiting for? Measure it and pass it over.” Although Levi’s tone is impatient, it’s more teasing than anything else, and for that, Eren’s appreciative. Levi’s supportive, and pragmatic, but he’s not suffocating.

He isn’t always nice, but he means well, and Eren’s thankful for that.

But back to the point. Right. Measuring.

Eren scrambles to get the measuring cup, trying to shake the lingering fog from his mind. He really needs to stop spacing out all the time. It’s getting to the point where it can’t even be considered healthy and is borderline ridiculous.

He opens the readily prepared mild carton and pours it carefully into the measuring cup. He takes care to look below the meniscus, only stopping once a full cup is reached.

“Here you go.” He passes it off to Levi, and Levi takes the cup without even looking at him, too focused on not burning the rue.

“Thanks,” Levi says.

It’s laughable how Eren’s entire body warms again just by one word from the mouth of an insanely hot guy.

_Wow, hormones, get in check please._

The aroma from the sauce is already starting to fill the air, and Eren inhales greedily. It’s been too long since he’s eaten a home-made meal cooked by someone else. To be honest, he’s sick of his own cooking. On the contrary, he’s completely ready to devour Levi’s.

When nutmeg is added, Eren’s stomach gives a quiet growl, reminding him that he hasn’t eaten anything today other than the two pieces sushi. He suddenly feels guilty when he realizes that Levi probably hasn’t eaten much more.

His guilt is, thankfully, put on hold when Levi asks him to pass the frozen string beans.

Eren happily obliges, passing the entire casserole dish to him, and he watches, fascinated, as the sauce is poured on the string beans.

“Croutons,” Levi demands, and Eren supplies. He likes the work ethic that they have going on, and he’s really starting to feel the spirit of Christmas.

When Levi throws a handful of croutons over the dish, Eren almost salivates. How long has it been since he’s enjoyed a Christmas meal like this? Too long.

The last time was three years ago, when Armin invited him and Mikasa over. But after Armin’s grandfather died, they stopped having annual Christmas feasts. Instead, Armin ate at Jeans, and Eren tried his best to make something for Mikasa with the little food they had.

But right now, there’s turkey in the oven, gravy in the gravy boat, mashed potatoes to the side, Brussel sprouts about to be cut, and a string bean casserole almost ready for the oven. Sure, the turkey’s a small turkey. And sure, it was already pre-baked and Levi’s only warming it. Even so, it’s all so overwhelming. Eren doesn’t know what to smell, or where to look.

“Put this in the oven,” Levi says, thrusting the casserole dish into Eren’s hands. Eren’s so unprepared that he almost drops it, righting himself last minute. Levi rolls his eyes at Eren, and Eren finds himself sticking his tongue out childishly at Levi.

There’s now cheese on the casserole, probably put on when Eren was zoned out again. Listening to Levi’s instructions, Eren opens the oven door and puts the casserole dish in the middle rack. He can feel the heat of the oven, and he almost extracts his hands…except he doesn’t.

It _burns_.

But Eren wants more.

Without even realizing, Eren presses his pinky finger to the metal rack, feeling the intense, concentrated pain fill up his hand.

_Ow, ow, ow._

He presses harder.

“Oi, kid, get your arse out of the oven. What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Eren pulls out quickly, nearly hitting his head on the counter, and he looks up at Levi like a deer caught in headlights.

“Sorry!” He says, glad that Levi didn’t see him purposely burn himself. “I was just distracted.”

When Levi rolls his eyes again, smile tugging at his lips, Eren knows he’s in the clear.

Levi goes back to cutting the Brussel sprouts, and Eren has time to star at his hand. His pinky is red and angry, and he pressed so hard that the oven rack mark is visible. He has no doubt that there will be a blister the next day.

It still hurts, and it’s the type of burn that ignites his nerves all the way to his wrist, and he’s terrified to realize that he likes it. Bruises are one thing, and elastic bands are another. But this…burning himself. This goes past the line he drew for himself. He promised himself that he wouldn’t be dragged so deep, but he can feel himself falling and caving almost willingly to the desires.

Eren doesn’t want to be like that. He doesn’t want to be a disaster case he only ever reads about. He doesn’t want permanent scars from blades, or blackened skin from burns. But with the direction he’s going it, it feels unavoidable.

But then there’s Levi.

Eren has Levi now, and he can only imagine the look on Levi’s face if he finds out what Eren was actually doing in the oven.

He should tell Levi. He should get help before it’s too late.

But does he really want help?

It’s really a confusing predicament that Eren can’t wrap his head around. He can’t tell Levi right now. It’ll ruin the mood, and he doesn’t want another Christmas to be spoiled because of his inability to function like a normal human being.

Does he want to tell Levi at all?

The scent of cooking food breaks Eren out of his reverie, and he’s once again taken by the delicious aroma surrounding the kitchen. Hanji’s definitely in for a treat, and Eren can’t wait until they come over. Although he’s only just met Levi’s strange friend, he can’t help but like them. And there’s also the possibility that Hanji’s not the only one coming over, and Eren’s pretty excited for that.

He’s always been a social person, but with the events of the past few years, he found himself as more of a wallflower. But today, he can meet new people. Today, he can meet Levi and Hanji’s friends, and maybe he can be invited into their group.

It’s a naïve thought, of course, but it’s also benign. And really, Eren doesn’t have many benign thoughts, so he’ll accept this one. After all, he knows that he’ll be content with just Hanji and Levi regardless if anyone else comes over.

And it’s nice to be content because Eren’s long forgotten what it actually felt like to be surrounded by benevolent friends.

_Friends._

That’s definitely a word that Eren can get used to.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a month. Please forgive me.  
> Have more Levi and Eren and Hanji bonding. (I love Hanji. Can you tell?) Seriously, if you don't like Hanji, you probably shouldn't be reading this story because they're one of the main characters. They'll be a very important part of Eren's recovery process (as will Levi, of course. But Levi's no psychologist.) 
> 
> Trigger warning for some mentions of suicide.

“Hanji’s here,” Eren announces once he opens the door.

“Yes, I’m here!” Hanji bounces in, gift bags in hand and nose red. Their glasses are askew, and they reach up quickly to push it up. After closing the door, they pull Levi into a one-sided and very suffocating hug before setting the presents onto the floor next to the entry way. “And I didn’t say it earlier, but happy birthday, short stack.”

Levi’s face sours, especially when Eren asks, “It’s your birthday?”

Levi frowns. “Yeah, but I don’t see what the big deal is.”

Eren stares as if Levi’s words are the worst things he’s ever heard. “The big deal is that you’re one year older!” Eren proclaims, dragging Levi over to the dining table with Hanji laughing hysterically behind them.

“And one year closer to death,” Levi replies flippantly, trying to tug his arm out of Eren’s death grip. Eren doesn’t let go, and Levi sighs.

He really didn’t sign up for this.

And he doesn’t understand what the big deal is. To him, his birthday is just another day. And he may not like to admit it, but he’s a bit bitter that it’s overshadowed by Christmas. Really, being born a week earlier would have made things a lot better. And also, his birthday is simply the date he was pushed out of his mom’s vagina. What’s so great about that?

“But it’s another year that you’ve survived!” Hanji smiles brightly, not even a little deterred by Levi’s lack of enthusiasm.

“And it also happens to be Christmas,” Eren says, eyes lighting up. “How cool is that?!”

Levi’s earlier blunder with the bad joke must have been forgotten.

Good.

Levi’s already messed up too much with this kid, and he doesn’t want to ruin Eren’s Christmas. After all, Eren could’ve been spending it in the lake—broken, cold, and dead.

Levi shudders at the thought, expelling it from his mind.

“It’s not cool,” he says tonelessly, focusing once more on the conversation. And it’s not. It’s not cool at all. It’s just disappointing.

Eren, unlike Hanji, is visibly affected by Levi’s lack of enthusiasm. The kid’s smile slowly becomes a frown, and Levi may or may not feel a little bit bad.

Hanji, thankfully, notices the exchange and throws an arm around Eren’s shoulders. They lean against Eren, laughing to ease the tension.

_Thanks, Hanji._

“Don’t mind the grumpy, old man. After all, he’s just bitter because Christmas is more important than his birthday,” Hanji tells Eren, ruffling his hair.

_Never mind. Burn in hell, shitty glasses._

Levi scowls, mostly because what Hanji said is true. But his scowl slowly eases into back into a neutral face once Eren opens his mouth to speak.

“I think Levi’s birthday is more important than Christmas,” Eren mutters, blushing at the ground, and Levi can feel his face flush as well. He has to turn away to hide it, not remembering the last time he’s blushed.

Eren’s too damn cute for his own good.

Still red, Eren leans away from Hanji, whose arm remains around his shoulders, and mumbles quietly into Levi’s ear. “After all, if you were never born, I would be dead today.”

Levi freezes at the thought, realizing that he hasn’t even thought of it like that. And Eren’s right. Despite how anti-hero Levi may seem, he saved Eren’s life, and that must count for something…right? After all, the two have only just met, and they’ve already hit it off. Eren even gets along with Hanji, and that itself is incredible. No one Levi knows can even listen to Hanji talk for more than five minutes, but Eren can listen to Hanji for what seems like hours.

Eren words are much too sad for such a Holiday, so Levi reluctantly throws his arm around Eren’s shoulders as well. Eren flushes even redder, and Hanji chuckles, squeezing Eren tighter.

It’s only a brief from of contact, and not anywhere as intimate as their time together in the washroom, but Levi still feels as if this is more embarrassing. Probably because Hanji’s there to witness it.

“Well, aren’t we a cute bunch,” Hanji beams, and Levi and Eren both roll their eyes. For good measure, Hanji pulls Levi even closer, and Levi growls.

“Get your filthy hands off you, shitty glasses,” Levi says, swatting at Hanji’s arm, but they’re having none of it.

“Nuh uh. It’s the holidays, Levi. Have some spirit!”

“Spirit can go fuck itself in the ass, and so can you.” Levi mutters, not expecting Eren’s shy laugh.

Hanji looks over at Eren, baffled. “Why are you laughing?” Hanji demands. “Why are you laughing at my expense?”

They place their free hand over their forehead dramatically, tilting their head back. “Oh, Eren. I thought that we were friends!”

This just makes Eren laugh harder, and soon his shyness is replaced by mirth.

Levi can’t help but smile too, feeling the strained tension between him and Eren dissipating into the merry atmosphere. It’s nice, Levi notes, to have another friend to smile and joke around with. Sure, Hanji’s nice, but it gets lonely with two. And Erwin’s another friend, but he never understood, and will never understand, Levi’s dry sense of humour and shitty poop jokes. (Ha ha, see what he did there?)

“At least Eren can appreciate my jokes,” Levi sniffs, fake proud.

Eren’s still laughing, face red and eyes closed. He leans forward trying to clutch his stomach, trying to ease the ache created by laughing so hard, and Levi and Hanji go over right with him.

Levi stumbles, swearing, and his foot gets caught in Eren’s foot. Hanji’s foot is next, nearly kicking Levi in the crotch before they go down as well. Soon, feet are getting caught everywhere, and Hanji stumbles hard enough to push Levi and Eren into the food counter. Hanji’s arm grabs at the counter when they nearly fall, and the thing closest to them just so happens to be the turkey. Their hands are just about to knock the turkey completely off and onto the floor when Eren reaches out and steadies Hanji.

Crisis avoided for the moment, they all slow down to catch their breaths. Eren bends over again, panting, and Levi steadies himself after taking his arms away from Eren’s shoulders. Hanji does the same, giggling.

There’s an ache starting in his stomach, and Levi’s astounded that he’s laughing, completely doubling over with a type of frivolity he hasn’t felt in a long time.

_He’s laughing._

Hanji stares, shocked, for a second as they blinking owlishly at the sight. Their eyes flicker from Levi to Eren, and finally settles on Levi, reaching out to touch his mouth.

“You’re…laughing,” Hanji remarks, eyes wide with curiosity.

Eren stops laughing and straightens up, listening in. “Does he not usually do that?” Eren asks, puzzled. He mouth is pursed, and his eyebrows are drawn together in a furrowed motion.

Levi stands still, suddenly aware of the attention of the two people beside him. “I laugh all the time,” Levi tries to defend, although weakly because he knows it’s not true.

Hanji shakes their head, marveling. “No, you really don’t. I haven’t heard you laugh like that since Isabelle and Farlan died.”

Hanji suddenly pauses, and Levi whips his head around to glare at them.

_What the fuck? What the actual fuck? Why do they think it’s okay to bring that up today?_

But the anger drains out of his as fast as it came, and Levi simply finds himself mulling over his thoughts in melancholy.

Well, Hanji sure knows how to bring down the mood. Levi sighs, not really wanting to think about Farlan and Isabelle. It’s not that he doesn’t like to talk about it. Actually, it _is_ that. He doesn’t like to talk about it because he doesn’t like to remember. Honestly, he doesn’t mind other people finding out about it. As long as they don’t bring it up too often, Levi’s good to go.

But Hanji obviously didn’t get the memo, or they just don’t care. They’re a psychologist after all, and they’ve been pestering Levi for the past six years to just _talk about it._

But Levi can’t, or rather, he doesn’t know how. Every time he thinks of them, a hole opens up in his heart.

His mouth dries, and he stares at Hanji. Hanji stares back, determination blazing in their eyes. The light mood is gone, replaced by strain. But no matter how much Levi glares, and how tightly he ball his fist, Hanji won’t back down.

The tension is only cut by Eren talking. “Who are, I mean _were_ , Isabelle and Farlan.” Eren’s voice is soft and filled with sympathy, and Levi can feel his walls coming down.

He lets out a breath before walking over to a chair and sitting down. Fuck, he’s too exhausted for this conversation. “They were friends,” Levi says simply because he doesn’t know how else to put it. “They died six years ago, and according to Hanji, I’ve been in a slump ever since.”

Eren follows Levi’s lead, sitting in a chair right next to him. Hanji’s soon to do the same, sitting on the other side of Levi. Really, it’s not ideal to be stuck between two idiots, but he’ll have to make do.

“Because you have,” Hanji states, scooting closer to Levi. Levi’s tempted to scoot away, but he stays rooted. “And you need to talk about it.”

Levi scowls, actually scooting away this time. Screw his pride. He’ll run from this conversation for as long as he can. Who's Hanji to tell him that he can't run from it for another six year? And another after that. And maybe for the rest of his life. Sadly, Hanji and Eren scoot up right next to him, and Levi’s too tired to actually get up.

“I’m not kidding. You’ve been bottling it up for six years. Spill.” Hanji’s voice is stern, but Levi’s known them long enough to sense the concern. He’s glad that Eren’s sitting patiently and quietly next to him, not pushing into the conversation.

So maybe the kid knows boundaries. At least that’s one last thing to teach. But really, Levi’s a bit hypocritical for saying that seeing all the trouble he’s caused the kid by pushing and shoving.

“There’s nothing to say,” Levi says, slouching in his seat. Hanji, defying all physics, manages to bring their chair even closer, and Eren somehow does the same. Really, Hanji’s a terrible influence on the kid. Next thing you know, Eren’s going to be a mad scientist too.

Eren finally speaks up. “You can talk about anything. Christmas is the best time for reminiscing, after all…” Eren trails off, lost in thought, and Levi snorts.

“Right. You’re one to talk. You’ve got bigger problems, kid. Problems that don’t involve the past like mine do.”

Eren tenses, and Levi knows that he hit a sore spot. Maybe he would apologize, except he’s not sorry.

“Levi,” Hanji reprimands, finally pulling away. It’s obvious that they don’t want Levi to push Eren to talk. Ha, what a hypocrite.

But seeing the grateful look Eren shoots Hanji, Levi can’t bring himself to get mad. Hanji and Eren are just trying to help, after all. And it’s clear that Eren doesn’t feel comfortable enough to talk about his problems around the both of them just yet. But Levi knows that Hanji knows something is up with Eren.

After all, Hanji didn’t study psychology for five years in school for nothing. But Hanji’s not going to push Eren, so neither will Levi. And it’s a win, win situation since Hanji’s laid off Levi’s back as well.

Hanji’s the first to break the elongated silence. “I’m starving. Let’s eat.” And the room is suddenly bright again and filled with sweet aromas.

“I’ll get the plates,” Levi says, lugging himself out of the chair.

“I’ll get the utensils!” Eren calls, hopping off much faster and Levi. How he’ll find the utensils, Levi doesn’t know. After all, Eren knows next to nothing about the layout of Levi’s house, much less his kitchen. But Levi’s unasked question is answered once Eren starts checking ever single drawer.

Idiot.

It’s nice, however, seeing Eren’s face split into a grin once he discovers the correct drawer, and Levi’s slight adoration doesn’t go unnoticed by Hanji. They catch glance of Levi’s little smirk, and they follow his eyes to Eren before smiling wider than the entire room.

It’s incredible what having another person over can do, Levi discovers. And what’s really great is that Eren looks like he’s having fun too, and Levi can only hope that it’s not an act. It’s then and there that Levi realizes, he really _does_ want to save the kid. Before, it was just a charitable act. But now, it’s something else. Now, he’s getting to know Eren, and he’s getting attached. Now, Eren has a face, a voice, and quirks.

Eren’s not just a faceless stranger on a bridge anymore.

Today, Eren is Levi’s friend.

* * *

 

They’re half way through Christmas dinner, laughing at Levi’s _literal_ shitty joke (“What does a cannibal do after dumping his girlfriend? He wipes his butt.”), when Eren gets a call.

At first, he’s reluctant to answer it. He never gets calls, so if he does, he knows that it can’t be good. But his phone keeps vibrating in his pocket, and by now Hanji and Levi are both staring, so he takes it out. He checks the screen, and then remembers that he didn’t have enough money to pay for caller ID. Yeah, that’s how broke he was when he bought his crap phone.

He contemplates whether or not to answer it for a bit, but then Levi says, “Just answer the damn thing,” with an exasperated sigh, so Eren does.

“Eren.”

It’s Mikasa. Well, fuck.

He knows that his face must be visibly blanching because Hanji mouths, “Are you okay?” Their eyes are concerned, but Eren waves them off.

Levi doesn’t seem to care, as he continues eating his mashed potatoes before poking at the string bean casserole with his fork. His licks his lips as he stuffs another piece of mash in his mouth, and Eren finds himself staring for a second before snapping out of it.

Phone. Mikasa. _Focus._

Eren tries not to sound bitter when he says, “Hey.”

Mikasa must sense the angry undertone of his voice anyway because she sighs before saying, “I just called to wish you a Merry Christmas. I’m sorry that you have to spend Christmas alone again. Are you sure you can’t visit Armin?”

Eren nearly fumes, but Hanji and Levi are both polite enough not to say anything when Eren practically growls before getting up from the dining table. He needs to take this call in private if he’s going to let his anger—and sadness—get the better of him.

He looks to Levi for permission, even though he doesn’t know why. It just feels rude to be leaving the table in the middle of Christmas dinner, not to mention that Levi and Hanji are new friends, and Eren doesn’t want to mess it up. Levi just waves him away, not saying a word, and Eren’s glad. And although Hanji’s starting to express their curiosity through facial expressions, they don’t say anything either.

Once he walks out of the dining area and into the living room, he manages to spit out, “Glad you’re so concerned for my well-being, seeing as you left me behind. And for your information, I’m with friends. So no, I’m not alone. And also, Armin’s in France, I do believe.”

Mikasa sighs again, and it just makes Eren angrier. Why is she the one getting annoyed in this situation? “Do you even have friends?” Mikasa asks, not without malice.

Eren winces. Ouch. There’s a sharp intake of a breath on the other side of the line too, and Mikasa mumbles out a “Sorry, that was uncalled for.”

There’s no way that he’s accepting that apology. “Fuck you,” Eren hisses, and he’s surprised to find himself close to tears. He doesn’t why he’s getting to upset from a simple comment, but a gaping hole seems to open up in his stomach, making the delicious feast he was eating before feel like wriggling worms.

Mikasa’s voice is gentler this time, but Eren doesn’t give two shits. “Really, I’m sorry. That was shitty of me.”

Eren doesn’t respond because he’s scared that if he opens his mouth, he’ll cry. After an awkward pause, where Eren struggles to blink away everything, Mikasa speaks again, this time more timid. “So, who are you with?”

What should he say? The truth is out of question, but Eren can’t really spin up a story on the spot. Sure, he can be creative, but he’s never been good enough with words to be convincing. The only plus side is that she can’t see his ears turn red, which is what give him away every single time. With that being said, Eren sticks to being defensive.

“I just said that I’m with friends,” he says, making sure to keep his voice harsh. The anger still brews, but Eren manages to keep it in check for the moment.

“Eren, we both know that’s a load of crap. If you’re home alone, that’s fine. I’m sorry that I’m not with you, but you don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

Never mind. The anger’s back.

Mikasa sounds so smug and _sure_ of herself that Eren struggles to breathe for a moment, engulfed by fury.

“You know nothing, _nothing_ about my life,” Eren spits, making sure to keep his voice quiet to Levi and Hanji won’t hear. But he knows that it’s pointless, seeing how close the dining area is. There’s also the fact that he can hear them both whispering about him.

(“Do you think it’s an ex?”

“Maybe. How the fuck should I know?”

“Ooooh! Maybe it’s parental issues. I’m very good at helping with those.”

“Hanji, now isn’t the time for your psychology bullshit. Shut up.”

“But Levi. I’m so curious! The cutie looked riled up, and I just want to know who’s got his panties in a twist.”

“His name is Eren, he doesn’t wear panties, and it’s none of your fucking business.”

“Oh, is that so? Levi, do you having something to tell me?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“How do you know that he doesn’t wear panties? Did you take a peak?”

“Ew. What the fuck, Hanji?! The kid’s at least ten years younger. I just saw the clothes he changed out of when he took a shower.”

“You let him use your shower?”

“Well, yeah. He smelled like shit.”

“You know what he smells like? And is that why he’s wearing your clothes? I knew I recognized those from somewhere, but I wasn’t certain. I mean, the last time you wore that sweater was when you were still fucking Erw—“

By this point, Eren stops listening for fear of what Hanji might say next. He’s certain that he’s better off not knowing.)

“Eren, are you even listening?” Mikasa asks, and Eren wants to snort at the hilarity of it because he definitely _wasn’t_ listening.

“No,” he deadpans, not bothering to spare her feelings. “ _My friends_ are being much more interesting right now. Bye.” He makes sure to exaggerate the words ‘my friends’, and he tries to end the conversation as quickly as possible.

Sadly, Mikasa doesn’t fall for it.

“What are their names?” She asks, cutting him off in the middle of his _“Nice talking to you, but I gotta go.”_

Eren clenches his teeth. It figures that he can’t get away with anything when it comes to Mikasa. If he really wants, he can hang up right now. But instead, he grinds out, “None of your business.”

“Eren. I’m your sister. I have the right to know what’s going on in your life, and I want to know about your friends,” Mikasa snaps.

Eren snaps right back. “You have no right. You lost that right when you ditched me on Christmas for the second year in a row to do god knows what.”

“I told you already. Something came up at college!” She yells through the phone, and Eren pulls it away from his ears for a moment, trying to wait out the ringing it his ears. It hurts. It really fucking hurts. When Mikasa yells at him, it’s like a truck running him over. Mostly because, despite his anger, he cares about her. Eren thinks, no. Eren _knows_ that Mikasa’s the most important person in his life. Hell, until very recently, she and Armin were the only two people in his life.

But Armin likes to travel, and Mikasa’s at college, so Eren’s always left behind.

All he wants is one Christmas with her, and she can’t even give him that. And now, even after everything he’s done for her, she’s yelling at him.

It would almost be insulting if it didn’t feel like a fucking sword through the chest.

He doesn’t yell back, not wanting Levi and Hanji to come check on him, and also just because he’s completely spent. There’s also the fact that Hanji’s curious enough as it is. And Eren’s scared that Levi might kick him out if he causes a ruckus.

“Right. Like getting shit-faced, right?” Eren mutters, more to himself than to her. Of course, she hears anyway, and he almost regrets it. _Almost._ Fighting with Mikasa has always been exhausting, but Eren’s never been known to have a good verbal filter.

He hears her make a frustrated sound, but she doesn’t retaliate in any other way. Huh, he must be right. And judging by the wild sound in the background that he only now notices, she must be at a party.

It’s always nice to know that his sister opted for a Christmas party instead of spending quality time with the only family member she has left. Nice. Eren feels _so_ appreciated.

But he swallows the sarcastic response and the vexation, and instead decides to just end the conversation.

“Goodbye,” Eren says when Mikasa doesn’t otherwise respond. And this time, she doesn’t stop him.

 _Good,_ he thinks, but inside, he’s begging. He’s begging for her to say something. To say, _“Fine, I’ll come home.”_ Or to say, _“Surprise. I’m actually driving to our apartment right now!”_ Or even to say, _“Don’t hang up yet. Let’s talk for a little while.”_

But she lets him, and Eren doesn’t know how to tell her how he feels. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he’s at the house of a man who saved Eren from killing himself. He doesn’t know how to tell Mikasa what he almost did.

And he knows, in the very back of his mind, that she must love him. _She must, right?_ But at times like this, and at time like when he was on the bridge, it certainly doesn’t feel like it. It feels like she regards him in disdain. It feels like she can’t wait to cut all ties with him and move on with her life.

But he can’t think about that now. If he doesn’t, he knows that the waterworks will start, and he doesn’t want any more tears for Christmas. So after several beat of silence on his end, and loud partying on Mikasa’s end, he presses _‘end call.’_

Slowly, he trudges into the kitchen, forcing on a smile. He notices how Levi’s now the concerned on, and Hanji looks ready to question him. But neither of them push, and neither of them question his watery eyes or too-bright smile. Instead, they all just settle down and continue eating.

Eren picks up his fork, not very hungry anymore, and the mood is suddenly sombre.

 _Great, you fucked up,_ Eren tells himself, and he knows it’s true. And it’s Levi’s birthday as well! How horrible. He really _is_ going to cry, Eren realizes when he feels the familiar burn behind his eyelids. Fuck. He doesn’t want to cry right now.

But thank god for Levi who—out of the silence—says, “Did you know diarrhea is inheritable? It runs in your jeans.”

Hanji bursts out laughing immediately, but it takes Eren a few seconds to get it. _Oh. Genes. Jeans. Got it._

“L-Levi. Stop. We’re eating!” Hanji giggles, doubling over and dropping their fork onto their plate.

Levi only rolls his eyes, but he looks especially proud of himself when Eren lets out a genuine laugh as well. Perhaps Christmas isn’t ruined just yet, and Eren lets himself relax. Forget Mikasa, and forget the bridge, if only for a moment. Right now, he’s going to enjoy Levi’s bad jokes and tolerate Hanji’s ardent babbling.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup. It's been awhile. (sorry).  
> Obviously, it's more shenanigans between Hanji, Levi, and Eren. And yes, this will be eventually be Levi/Eren, but I have no intentions of making mama Hanji disappear just yet.
> 
> Trigger warning for mentions of depression and suicide (basically the entire story oops).

“Hey, Levi,” Eren says while putting the clean dishes away.

“What?” Levi replies, focused on trying to scrub a brussel sprout stain off the pan. 

Hanji laughs at Levi’s annoyed tone, and Eren manages a smile too. He dreads the moment when he’ll have to go home, and he’s scared that he’ll be too awkward to keep in touch. The thing with Eren is that he doesn’t know how to keep friends. Sure, he trusts easily, if today is any proof of that. But in the long run, he doesn’t know how to keep a relationship—whatever the kind—alive.

In the last ten years, every single person he’s ever hung out with slowly trickled out of his life. And now, all that’s left is Mikasa. But now there’s Levi and Hanji, and Eren doesn’t even know if they trust him. Hell, he doesn’t even know if he actually trusts them!

Really, there’s nothing he knows anymore. He doesn’t know if he’ll try to kill himself again, and he doesn’t know if he wants to. It’s completely possible that Levi and Hanji don’t even like him, and that they’re doing it as a charity case for a suicidal teen.

“What is it?” Levi snaps, drawing Eren’s attention away from his own thoughts.

“Huh?” Eren says, turning to face Levi. What were they talking about again?

“You wanted to tell me something. You said, ‘hey, Levi.’ Well? I’m listening.” Levi taps the counter impatiently, turning the water off, and Eren’s vaguely aware that Hanji’s sitting at the table listening in.

“Oh, right.” Jeez, Eren really needs to focus on the conversation at hand. He gets distracted far too easily. “I was wondering why you don’t have a tree.”

Hanji jumps up, nearly knocking the chair over, before saying, “Right? I told you, Levi. You need a tree!”

“I don’t need anything,” Levi growls, and Eren draws back, afraid that he’s angered Levi.

“Right…sorry,” Eren mutters, turning back to putting the plates away. He doesn’t want to make anyone upset. He doesn’t want to ruin the only chance at friendship he’s gotten in such a long time. But really, his hopes aren’t that high, and his self-esteem is to the floor. He knows, for a fact, that he’s a shitty person to be around, and that he’s toxic. He knows that people don’t stick around.

So he’s surprised when Hanji throws their arms around him, squeezing him tightly. “Aw, Eren, you’re too cute.”

Eren swallows, baffled. Why are they calling him cute? What did he do? Is Levi mad? Does Levi hate him? What’s even going on?

“Is Levi mad at me?” Eren whispers into Hanji’s ear, immediately regretting it. God, he sounds so clingy. Why does he care if Levi’s mad? They just met, for god’s sake. But for some reason, Eren needs to know. He’s no stranger to making people mad, so it wouldn’t surprise him so much as disappoint him. As if he hasn’t fucked up enough as it is.

But Hanji only smiles, ruffling his hair. “No. He’s not mad. He’s like that all the time.”

Levi nods in agreement. “Sorry, Eren,” he offers, although he doesn’t seem too familiar with the word. It’s almost amusing. “I’m not mad. I’m like that all the time.”

“Why are you saying sorry?” Eren looks down, ears red. He doesn’t want Levi to apologize. Hell, he should be the one apologizing. And to think that all this distress comes from a silly question about a tree.

“Because I made you sad.”

“But _I’m_ the one who made _you_ upset! I should be the one saying sorry,” Eren expresses, trying to slow the beating of his heart. It’s gradually getting faster, and he can only hope that Levi can’t hear the rising panic.

“Stop it.” Levi says, scowling. “It was just a stupid question about a tree. I’m not upset.”

Hanji nods. “He’s really not. You should see him when he’s actually angry. It’s like a scary elf.”

“I'm not an elf,” Levi growls, whaking Hanji on the shoulder. Hanji pouts, wincing, and Eren can’t help but grin a little apprehensively.

“And also, Eren makes a good point,” Hanji says, finally letting go of the hug. “Why don’t you have a tree?”

Despite how hard he might pretend not to be, Eren’s curious for the answer too. He takes a step closer to Levi, earlier panic retreating. It lingers, because it always does, but it’s slowly slipping away.

 _Good,_ Eren thinks. _Go away and never come back._

“Christmas trees are pointless,” Levi says, shrugging, and Eren frowns at the response. It’s so…brief. And not really satisfying considering the trouble that came with asking it. Not that Levi caused the trouble. It was Eren being an awkward piece of good-for-nothing shit again. Not that he would ever express that aloud.

Thankfully, Hanji seems to think the same way as Eren. “And…?” They press, leaning closer and closer to Levi.

“Get the fuck out of my face,” Levi says, pushing Hanji away. “And trees are messy as hell. Why on earth would I want one in my house?”

Hanji only leans closer, and Eren almost feels bad for Levi. He knows that he hates people getting in his personal bubble, and judging from the reaction, so does Levi.

When Levi doesn’t elaborate more, Eren can’t help but speak up. “But they’re easy to clean. You just get a broom and a dustpan and sweep up all the pine needles.”

Hanji laughs. “Eren’s right, you know. It’s not like you hate cleaning. In fact, I’m pretty sure cleaning’s your hobby. So why does it matter now?”

Eren turns to Hanji. “Haven’t you ever been curious of this before? Why haven’t you ever made him get a tree? I mean, you seem like the kind of person who would shove a tree into his house and keep it there until after Christmas.”

Right after the words leave his mouth, Eren wants to dig a hole to China and bury himself in hit. _Stupid. You’ve probably offended both of them now._

But Hanji only laughs louder, and Eren feels a flow of relief rush through him. “Yeah. I would’ve definitely done that sooner or later. It’s just that Levi usually comes over to my place for Christmas, so I don’t really see his house in the holiday season,” Hanji says, musing.

Levi rolls his eyes. “Remind me why I let you in my house again?”

“Because I threatened to serenade you with old Taylor Swift songs until you let me in,” Hanji supplied. But it’s obvious that Levi never actually forgot.

“Hey, I happen to like old Taylor Swift,” Eren defends, and Levi huffs. He _actually_ huffs—as in, a tiny breath escaped him in an adorable sound.

Eren almost blushes just by hearing it, but he manages to get a grip of himself.

“Maybe. But you’ve never heard Hanji sing. They can ruin any song the moment they open their fat mouth.”

Hanji only rolls their eyes, chuckling. “Levi, you’re like the Grinch. I swear that you hate every single holiday.”

“That’s not true,” Levi says.

“It _is_!” Hanji insists.

“No it’s not.”

“Name one holiday you actually like.”

Levi pauses, thinking, and Eren watches as his adam’s apple shifts with every swallow. Eren also notices the way Levi’s eyes twitch when he’s annoyed, and how his touch trails the bottom of this top teeth when he’s deep in thought.

There’s a moment of silence, and Hanji grins triumphantly. “Hah! Told you.”

Levi only frowns, and Eren frowns with him.

“There must be a holiday you like,” Eren says, going through a list of holidays in his head. But truth be told, Eren’s not so fond of the festive season either, but he’ll never give Levi the satisfaction of knowing that. No, it’s way too fun to tease him.

“I’m pretty sure the Grinch was written about you,” Hanji says, and Levi’s frown deepens.

“Actually,” Eren says. “He’s too short to be the Grinch.”

Hanji breaks off into heavy laughter, and they reach up to high-five Eren. Eren happily complies, loving that he’s making at least one person laugh. Not that it’s that much of a success, considering how much Hanji laughs anyway at pointless stuff.

“Why are you all against me?” Levi throws his hands up, exasperated, and Hanji starts giggling again.

“It’s just fun to finally have someone to tease you with.” Hanji says, wiping at their eyes even though there are no actual tears. Eren suspects that it’s just for effect, and Levi doesn’t seem to care at all.

“And Eren’s cute too, so that’s a bonus,” Hanji adds, causing Levi to rub his temples.

“Hanji, be careful or someone will mistake you for a pedophile,” Levi says, continuing to message his head.

Hanji only grins wider, leaning their head on Levi’s shoulder despite the height difference. It’s quite comical to look at, and Eren can feel the unwelcome feeling of envy seep into him. He realizes, a second late, why he’s envious. It’s because he wants a friendship like that. A friendship where he’s not constantly scared of offending someone, or always on the edge of his seat in fear of doing something wrong. Hanji and Levi have that. Hanji and Levi have the most comfortable friendship that Eren’s ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

It’s adorable, and it painfully reminds Eren of the absence in his life.

“I’m of legal age,” Eren mutters, before realizing what he’s implying. “Not that I’m interested in Hanji!” He rushes to add on.

“Oh?” Levi raises an eyebrow. “Are you calling my friend…unattractive?”

Hanji cackles, yes, actually _cackles_. “Shut up, shorty. You know that’s not what the cutie meant.”

Eren blushes, for the millionth time, at the embarrassing nickname, before realizing that it’s late. It’s really late.

He checks the time, disappointed that it’s nearly the next day. He doesn’t want this day to end. He wants to stay in this moment with Levi and Hanji forever, but he knows he should leave. It’s after dinner, and even though he wants to talk to Levi and Hanji, he needs to get home.

He feels a rush of remorse, and of course, that dreadful envy. Hanji and Levi both notice the change in Eren’s demeanor, and Levi asks, “Something wrong, Kid?”

Eren shakes his head, smiling sadly. “No. I just think I'm overstaying my welcome. I should leave.”

Hanji frowns, and Levi rolls his eyes. “You idiot. If I wanted you to leave, I would’ve kicked you out by now.”

And at the same time, Hanji says, “Don’t go. We need to tease Levi more.”

Eren looks between them, torn. He doesn’t want to leave, but he doesn’t want to impede. There’s also the fact that he might have accidently left the light in his room on and he needs to go back to check. Considering that he never meant to live through to the next day, he never bothered with lighting or electricity. Dead people don’t have to pay bills, after all. But now, he’s alive, and he really needs to save money.

“Listen,” Levi says, and Eren brings his attention back to the people in the room. “At least stay for gift opening.”

“But none of the gifts are for me!”

Hanji goes over to grab them. “No. I got one for you,” they say, thrusting a yellow, blue, and sparkly bag into Eren’s hands.

They then walk over to the living room and sit on the couch, legs folded underneath them as they set the other begs onto the coffee table in front of the couch. Smirking, Levi follows, looking back at Eren. “Well, you coming, brat?”

Eren stands, the bag dangling in his fingers. He got a…gift? From a person he’s just met? Something inside Eren warms, and a heat blossoms in his chest. Never in his life has he experienced such kindness, and he freezes in the spot, unsure of what to say. Is he supposed to be groveling his thanks? Is he supposed to give something back? What is he supposed to do in a situation like this?

“Hey, you hear the midget. Get your cute butt over here,” Hanji demands, patting the spot between them and Levi.

They saved Eren a spot?

Oh god, Eren’s never felt so loved. And these two are practically strangers! The warmth is spreading, and Eren finds himself stuttering out a hesitant, “Thank you.”

It’s silly that he’s getting so worked up over such a small thing. But to him, receiving a present from Hanji is astounding. How can someone be so…good? How can someone think so much of others? Eren’s never met anyone like Hanji and Levi. He’s never met anyone as strange, as kind, and as sarcastic and witty.

He can cry right now, if he wants. But out of happiness this time. But obviously, he doesn’t actually want to cry, so he holds it in.

But Hanji only beams at Eren’s thanks, patting the space between them and Levi once more. “Well, what are you waiting for? We have gifts to open.”

Even Levi’s grinning, curiously looking at Eren to see what he’ll do next.

Slowly, and carefully, Eren makes his way over to the couch, sitting down gingerly. He doesn’t even know what’s going on as he sets the bag on the table with the others. It’s strange, and so surreal.

And it’s strange, because Eren feels safe. Eren can feel the frost, and a darkness he’s become accustomed to, being stripped away. But that’s not right, because it’s still there, just paused for the moment. And Eren finds that he’s okay with it.

Reaching slowly with shaking fingers, Eren touches Levi and Hanji on the shoulders bringing them closer. _Is this okay?_ He wants to ask, but he doesn’t. Because they let him pull them both close. Even Levi doesn’t seem to mind.

_Are we friends?_

_Do you trust me?_

_Do I trust you?_

He doesn’t say any of these things aloud because he thinks that he knows the answers already. It’s probably ‘yes’ to all of them. And it’s strange because this is the very definition of “fast friend making.” But Levi’s saved his life, and Hanji’s just hilarious to be around. And this day has truly been magical, even after the frost starts to creep up Eren’s spine again.

* * *

 

“Open that one first.”

“What the fuck, shitty glasses. Is this a dildo?”

“Yes!”

“I’m single.”

“I know!”

“I hate having things up my ass.”

“Oh my god, Levi, I know!”

“Then…why?”

“Just because, my dear friend. Just because.”

“…”

“…”

“Stop wiggling your fucking eyebrows you pervert.”

* * *

 

“Thank you, Hanji! I’ll try my best to remember to write in this.”

“Aw, cutie, don’t thank me. Thank you for coming into Levi’s life, even though I don’t know how it happened.”

“Err…We just met.”

“I know. But isn’t strange how we’re already so close?”

“Well…You and Levi are close. I’m just…a new friend.”

“But new friends can be close too. Look at how close we are. Wouldn’t you agree, Levi?”

“Sure. Now shut the fuck up and open the next gift.”

* * *

 

“Levi, you shouldn’t have.”

“I wanted to.”

“Aw, shorty, so you do have a heart.”

“Shut up, shitty glasses. Just put it on already.”

“You’re so cute. I know you would get me another ugly Christmas sweater.”

“Tradition is tradition, after all.”

* * *

 

“Sorry, kid. You were a sudden inclusion so I didn’t have time to get you anything.”

“It’s fine, Levi. You’ve given me enough.”

* * *

 

Finally, the gift giving is done, and Eren’s stepping out the door into the cold, night air. Levi offered to give him a ride, and Eren graciously accepted because he has no idea where he is and no intentions to walk home and the dark. And Hanji decided to come with just because they could.

So now, the three of them are making their way to the car, and Eren can feel every inch of his body re-freezing itself. He doesn’t want to leave.

No friends are fleeting, and he’s scared that if he goes, they won’t ever come back. He’s care that if he goes, they won’t be real.

As if sensing his thoughts, Levi holds a hand out. “Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Give me your phone. I’m going to give you mine and Hanji’s phone numbers. Call us whenever.”

“Yes,” Hanji butts in. “Call us whenever. Especially Levi. He’s lonely.”

“Shut up,” Levi growls, but doesn’t otherwise object. Eren smiles slightly at the interaction, wondering when he’ll see it again. “And also,” Levi adds, now talking to Eren. “Hanji’s a psychologist. You might want to talk to them about…certain things.”

Levi hands the phone back, and Eren can only nod. Will Hanji really be willing to listen?

“Yes. Come talk to me.” Hanji nods enthusiastically, and Eren wonders how they know that he needs their help.

He shoots Levi a look, wondering if he’s told Hanji anything while Eren wasn’t listening, but Levi only shakes his head. “Don’t look so surprised, kid. Hanji’s been studying psychology for a long time. She knows when someone’s depressed.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Eren snaps, feeling his walls go up. _Lies._

Levi sighs. “Sure,” he says, not bothering to push Eren. “But seriously, book an appointment with Hanji. They’re good at their job.”

Hanji hums in agreement. “And you can talk to me just talk to me as a friend as well. It doesn’t have to be professional. And talk to Levi, too. He knows more about depression than he lets on.”

“I’m fine,” Eren says again, but this time uncertain. He knows he’s kidding himself. Normal, functioning humans don’t try to throw themselves off bridges.

Hanji doesn’t push him, just like how Levi didn’t push him. But they don’t agree with him either. Instead, all three of them get into the car, and Levi starts the engine. Hanji sits in the back with Eren, keeping him company, and Eren’s glad that he doesn’t have to sit in the back alone.

When Levi starts the drive after Eren give him his address, Eren takes out his phone again, looking at his new contacts before his eyes shift to the sparkly bag containing the Christmas gift Hanji gave him earlier. Maybe he’ll book an appointment with Hanji, and maybe he’ll refer Mikasa to Hanji too. After all, he still thinks of her even though she doesn’t think of him.

He notices what Levi’s inserted as the contact names, and he lets out a breathy sound of amusement. Hanji’s inserted as “Shitty Glasses,” and Levi made himself “Captain Levi.”

No matter what tough-guy act Levi puts on, he’s still a dork after all. Eren can’t help but grin at the fact, and when Hanji peeks over to see the contact names, they grin as well.

“Levi, you dork,” Hanji says, referring to the contact names.

Levi only smirks, and Eren can see the tilt of his lip in the mirror up front. Really, Levi looks way too proud of himself. “Don’t change the names,” Levi says, and Eren nods. As if he’ll ever change them. The names are, well, as perfect as contact names can get, and Eren will be a fool to change them. No, he’ll keep them, and he makes a mental note to _make an effort_ to actually contact them _._

He’ll be damned if he lets these two go.

_Just don’t let me go first._


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An appropriate title for this chapter would be "Too Many Fucking Commas."  
> This chapter has both POVs, but little interaction between the two. Sorry. I don't think they have much, if any, interaction in the next chapter either. 
> 
> Trigger Warning for descriptions of suicide because Eren's mind likes to go in that direction.
> 
> Enjoy!

It’s lonely in his apartment. And it’s also really fucking cold. Eren doesn’t even know what he’s doing. All he knows is that he’s already itching to call Levi, and it hasn't even been an hour.

His apartment, even in its suffocating size, still feels too big. He doesn’t want to be alone, but he also finds it exhausting to keep up relationships. Really, it’s a predicament that Eren’s certain normal people don’t have.

“Normal.” Fuck, he hates that word. What does it even mean to be normal anyway? Whatever it means, Eren’s sure that it’s not him.

He wants—no—he _craves_ to call Levi, or even Hanji, but he can’t. Even when his whole chest begins to ache from the true weight of solitary, he _can’t_. There’s just something so inexplicably terrifying and intimidating about picking up the phone and calling someone.

But Levi, _god_ he wants to call Levi. Because, after all, Eren promised himself that he would make an effort. And yet, every time he picks up the phone, a brick presses down his shoulders and anxiety makes him jittery enough to put the phone down. His palms sweat, then go cold, then sweat again, and he can’t. It feels terrible to admit it, but he really, truly can’t.

 _Levi can call me instead if he really wants to talk,_ Eren tries to reason with himself. In the end, it still feels like copping out.

But by some form of extreme stubbornness and fear, his excuse holds out. So for the next two days, all he does is go to work, come back home, sleep, and cry. And he does it all without even looking at his phone. Instead, when he’s feeling especially internet and socially deprived, he’ll go on his cheap, shitty laptop, and he’ll marathon Buffy the Vampire Slayer. All young adult males do the same thing, right?

It’s almost comical how pathetic Eren’s being—comical and depressing.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing with his life anymore. He doesn’t even know what’s happening. And, on New Year’s Eve, four days after Levi dragged his sorry ass off the bridge, he realizes that he hasn’t given Levi his number. Which means that Eren’s the one who has to initiate the call.

Huh, so much for Levi doing the calling.

And there’s the possibility that Levi’s worried. Because it’s natural to worry about friends, apparently. Eren, for a second, tries to put himself in Levi’s shoes.

What if, on a 2:00am drive, Eren was the one who saw Levi about to jump off a bridge? And what if, after they become quick friends, Levi leaves after Christmas and doesn’t call for nearly a week? And sure, four days isn’t that long, but four days is also plenty of time for hypothetical Levi to try to kill himself again. In the hypothetical situation, Eren would be freaking out.

Is Levi freaking out in the real life situation? Maybe. They’re different people, and Levi seems pretty stoic, so Eren wouldn’t be too surprised if the man was calm. Although, in the time Eren’s knows Levi, he’s also seen Levi’s soft side. But does Levi really care enough about Eren to be concerned? Maybe. Maybe not. He runs it through and through his head, but Eren still can’t seem to read Levi, or anyone for that matter.

Even so, Eren hates having people worry about him.

So with that in mind, he picks up his phone which has been charging on his nightstand for over three days now (the battery must be destroyed), and he clicks on Captain Levi in his contacts.

The name, once again, makes him smile.

Timidly, Eren waits, knees weak and arms unsteady.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings.

Four rings.

Five rings.

Six rings—

“Hello?” Levi’s gruff voice resounds through the phone, and Eren immediately finds himself a mess.

“Hi, Levi. It’s…um,” Eren stumbles, face becoming gradually more and more red even though no one’s there to watch him. Even so, it’s embarrassing. “It’s Eren,” he finally manages to get out, fighting to urge to clear his throat because he’s scared it’ll sound rude.

“I just…I…um…hi?” Eren stutters, dreading Levi’s response when there’s no immediate reply. Finally, after ten seconds of silence, Levi’s breath can be heard as if he’s opening his mouth.

And, surprisingly, Levi doesn’t say _“What took you so long?_ Or _“Why didn’t you call sooner?”_

All Levi says is, “Hey.”

There’s another pause, and Eren realizes—much to his own chagrin—that he has no idea what to say next. Why is he even calling in the first place? He knows very well that he can’t straight up tell Levi that he called because didn’t want the older man to worry. Because what if Levi wasn’t even worried? How pretentious would Eren sound then?

His fingers shake with disquiet, and he taps them on his trembling legs to get rid of the nasty jitters. Shakily, he seeks for a response.

“I was just calling…to…” Eren stops, frustrated with himself.

 _Why can’t you do anything right?_ He thinks vehemently, wanting to slap himself in the face.

Thankfully, Levi takes Eren’s silence as a moment to speak. “Did you book an appointment with Hanji yet?”

Okay, never mind, Eren’s not thankful at all.

He looks down, watching his toes as he wiggles them, and he’s glad that Levi can’t see his ashamed expression. He doesn’t see the point in lying. Levi will just ask Hanji anyway. “No,” he mumbles, not wanting to speak up in case he begins to cry, or hit himself, or both. He can’t help but think, _Levi’s going to leave. Hanji’s going to leave. They’re both going to leave and I’ll really have no one left. And Mikasa will come home to my dead body on the floor, bleeding out from slashes on my wrist. Or maybe I’ll swallow a bunch of pills. Or Maybe I’ll hang myself. I think I have a belt that’s strong enough, and I know my closet is a good place to—_

But to Eren’s surprise, no disappointment is present in Levi’s voice. “That’s fine,” He says, and he sounds like he means it. And then he adds, “But you should really give Hanji a try. They’re good at their job.”

Eren knows that Levi’s right, and that he should really get help if his previous thoughts are any indication, so he quietly says, “Okay.” Because he wants to call Hanji. He really does. But then he knows that he’ll have to talk about his problems, and he doesn’t know if he’s ready for that yet. The only person he’s talked to is Levi, and that’s because Levi was the one to pull Eren off the edge of the bridge.

But Hanji doesn’t know that. Sure, they’ve deduced that _something’s_ wrong with Eren. And sure, Levi and Hanji both have already labeled him with depression. And they’re not exactly wrong. But Eren’s scared that speaking to a psychologist, even if that psychologist’s a friend, will make it feel official.

He doesn’t want to live in sadness anymore, but he also doesn’t want to admit to his problems because _who’s going to save Mikasa otherwise?_ Eren has to be mentally stable to make sure that she’s okay. He has to me _normal_ because Mikasa’s the one who needs to be helped.

Levi breaks through his reverie. “Think on it, kid. You don’t have to decide right away. I just want you to talk to Hanji because it would be seriously inconvenient. No, that isn’t the right word. I mean _devastating_ to find you dead somewhere because your brain became your worst enemy.”

Eren swallows audibly at Levi’s words, letting them sink in. Levi’s right. Of course Levi’s right. So, with a little bit more resolve, Eren says, “Okay” for the second time. And he thinks that he means it. He hopes that he means it. He doesn’t know how he’ll continue on if everything he’s telling himself and Levi is a lie.

* * *

 

Levi’s at a party. Why is Levi at a party?

Because it’s New Year’s Eve, and for some shitty reason, Hanji and Erwin have dragged him off to get shitfaced. Great.

Luckily, he’s in a pretty good mood from his phone call with Eren earlier in the day. He didn’t think that the kid would ever work up the courage to call, but the stuttering, shy mess actually managed to dial Levi’s number without biting his tongue, so Levi will call that an accomplishment.

On the other hand, he’s quite worried that Eren still hasn’t scheduled an appointment with Hanji. And although it’s true that Levi doesn’t worry about much people, he finds that Eren’s struck the chord of empathy that he tends to hide away most of the time. Not because he wants to be seen as cold, but more because it’s much more _convenient_ when others don’t know what you’re thinking.

And he’s concerned about the kid. He’s also, for good reason, scared that Eren will end up killing himself, and Levi will never hear from him again.

It’s a terrifying thought, mostly because the prospect of the situation is unnervingly realistic.

It would be a lot better if Eren was here to keep Levi company. Because somehow, the kid managed to understand Levi’s sense of humour better in 24 hours than Hanji could understand it in ten years. And although it’s quite embarrassing on Hanji’s part, it’s impressive on Eren’s.

And Levi knows that his jokes are shit—quite literally. But Eren still finds them funny, and Levi thinks that’s pretty incredible.

Yet, he knows better than to invite someone like Eren to a party. Eren’s…not innocent per se, but he’s definitely not a party animal. Eren, to Levi’s knowledge, is pretty recluse. Not that Levi’s opinions should count. He hasn’t known Eren for very long, but he knows things about Eren that no one else knows. Dark things, lonely things, and sad things.

But he’s starting to regret not inviting Eren because the party’s dull as fuck. And also, he’s surrounded by idiots who he can’t stand. Even so, he has morals, so he’s not going to ring the kid up just to drag him to a place where he could potentially get date raped. Not that Levi would ever let that happen in the first place, but it’s a hypothetical statement that could very much happen in theory.

So Levi’s content with leaving Eren out of this.

However, Levi’s not content with the crappy quality of the alcohol. And no, it wasn’t like he was expecting champagne, but he was sure that the host of the party could’ve afforded something better than room-temperature beer. The first sip he took almost made him cry, so he hasn’t taken another sip since.

“Levi!” Hanji screams in his ears, and Levi tries to hide his wince.

With a rough hand, he pushes a very intoxicated Hanji away from him, determined not to let them anywhere near him. This, however, is quick to pass when Hanji puts a sweaty hand onto Levi’s shoulder.

_Disgusting._

Levi wrinkles his nose, growling as he pushes Hanji away once again, but Hanji only keep putting their hand back, each time gripping tighter. After the tenth time, their grip is tight enough to cut off Levi’s shoulder circulation.

“Fuck off,” Levi grinds out, but his voice is lost in the loud music and voices of the party. Hanji hears anyway, because they always do, and they laugh, leaning heavily onto Levi’s shoulder.

Levi tries to weave through the crowd to get away, but Hanji clings to Levi’s arm, dragging him to the refreshment table to an awaiting Erwin.

“C’mon, short stack,” Hanji says, and Levi’s impressed that they’re not slurring yet. “You need to get buzzed!”

“No I don’t,” Levi growls, yanking his arm back but to no avail.

He already knows that Hanji’s not going to give in, so to save himself even more trouble, he decides to reluctantly follow along.

He swear that Hanji grumbles, “Finally,” under their breath when Levi finally lets himself get dragged away.

“There you are!” Erwin exclaims once Levi and Hanji go up to him. He brings a heavy hand onto Levi’s back, but Levi’s far too used to it to wince. Instead, he sneers.

“Why am I here again?” He questions for the millionth time, and Hanji and Erwin both laugh. They’ve obviously gotten used to Levi’s constant, petty whining, and they’re troopers for putting up with it. On the other hand, Levi thinks that he’s much more of a trooper than Hanji and Erwin will ever be because he has to put up with their sorry asses.

Suddenly, without any hesitation, a new drink is shoved into his hand, and the old one is plucked out. Levi looks down at the actually cold drink that somehow appeared in his hand, then he looked back up only to find Hanji inches away from his face. Any normal person with personal boundaries would probably be creeped out, but once you’ve known Hanji for a decade, it’s impossible to have any boundaries at all.

“Drink,” they order, and Levi rolls his eyes. But he still does as he’s told because he knows that Hanji won’t leave him alone otherwise. And Erwin, that smug bastard, stands to the side observing the entire thing with a fucking smile on his face.

Levi tilts his head back, downing the entire glass in one swig and ignoring Hanji’s excited clapping. Once the bitter liquid finishes burning down his throat, he tosses the glass back onto the refreshment table and turns to leave.

He should’ve known that it wouldn’t be so easy.

Instead, Hanji quickly grabs him back, sitting him on a plastic seat right next to the table. The party’s still in full swing, and the lights are starting to hurt Levi’s head. All he wants now is to go home, take a long shower, and pass out. But Hanji has other plans seeing as they pull a chair right up to Levi and sit down next to him.

“So,” they say, leaning forward until their nose is almost touching Levi’s nose. “Let’s talk about Eren.”

Levi frowns. “What’s there to talk about?”

By this point, he’s noticed that Erwin’s disappeared into the crowd, and he wants to smack the other man for ditching him. Not that he can blame Erwin. When Hanji starts to talk, it’s each to their own.

Speaking of the devil, they only let out a shit eating grin at Levi’s uninterested tone. “I know that you think he’s cute,” they point out, and Levi only shrugs.

After all, Hanji’s not wrong. “Yeah. So what? Anyone with eyes can see that,” Levi says, already regretting drinking the drink that Hanji got him. It sits in his stomach uncomfortably, and Levi doesn’t even feel the least bit drunk.

“But _you_ think he’s cute,” Hanji explains, leaning back in their chair far enough to make Levi wonder if they’ll fall. He hopes that they will.

They don’t.

Instead, Hanji tilts the chair back into its original position and stares at Levi. “You’re blushing!” They say, pointing excitedly.

Levi, with puzzled thoughts, reaches up slowly to touch his cheeks. Is he really blushing? That’s new. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s gotten flustered at a comment. But, to be fair, it’s probably from the body heat in the room. Because Levi’s fairly certain that he’s not a hormonal teenage boy anymore.

Even so, he’s not so above himself to say that he’s not the least bit infatuated. Eren’s, after all, pretty cute. And Levi has an eye for attractive people whether he likes to admit it or not.

Even so, he shrugs. “Good observation. Would you like a golden star with that? Can I go now?”

Levi stands up, trying to leave again, but Hanji springs up quickly and clings to him. “Don’t leave!” Hanji says, gesturing around wildly with one hand. “The party’s only just begun!”

“I’m sure it can continue without me,” Levi grumbles, pushing pointlessly against Hanji’s iron grip.

“No, it can’t! We need your poop jokes and shitty drunk humour. Please, Levi. Stay.” Hanji’s begging, and it’s hilarious as well as embarrassing. Levi’s tempted to hide his face and pretend he doesn’t know them.

“You hate my shitty humour,” he points out instead, and Hanji only beams.

“I only hate it sometimes.”

“Is now not one of those times?”

“No. I’m drunk.”

Levi nods in understanding—only, he doesn’t actually understand. A drunk Hanji is an even crazier Hanji. But a drunk Hanji is also apparently stupider. Not to mention that the humidity in the room is fucking gross, and the sweaty bodies pressing up against his are starting to drive him insane.

“Let’s go outside, at least,” Levi says, already pushing past the crowd of horny people. Hanji, still grabbing on to Levi, reluctantly follows, whining loudly in his ears.

“But the Party’s not going on outside,” Hanji groans, reaching out and snatching a cup of punch out of someone’s hand on the way out.

Levi smacks in out of their hands, not caring about the mess for once. “That’s fucking disgusting,” He sneers, still moving.

Hanji rolls their eyes, but they don’t try to get another drink.

Good. The last thing Levi needs is a drugged Hanji on top of the disgusting party.

Finally, the door comes into view, and Levi opens it with newly discovered vigor. Fuck, he needs fresh air. He steps outside, inhaling greedily, and Hanji follows glumly behind. They’ve since let go of Levi’s arm, and they instead choose to wrap their arms around themselves, shivering.

“It’s freezing,” Hanji remarks, and Levi scoffs.

“No shit.”

Hanji pouts, rubbing their shoulders, but Levi doesn’t mind the cold as much. No. The cool wind on his skin feels nice, and it’s infinitely better than the hot ass mess going on inside the building. He embraces the cold weather, letting it sooth his sweaty skin. And while he’s at it, he raises both his arms so the wind can reach his armpits.

He watches as Hanji does the same, sighing with satisfaction.

“Okay,” Hanji relents, smiling contently at the moon and starts. “You were right. This is better.”

Levi nods, not wanting to respond. It’s almost midnight, which means that it’s almost New Year, and that means that everyone will be reshaping themselves. Levi’s always found resolutions stupid, and this year’s not going to change that. He’s always been a bit cynical, and he’s never been one to believe the saying: “New Year, New You.” It sounds like a load of crap to him.

To Levi, New Year is just another day. Another day like yesterday, or the day before that. There’s no point in setting yourself up for failure, and Levi’s failed enough in his life to know that the taste of failure is the bitterest taste of all. And so, to avoid the misery of failed New Year’s resolutions, Levi simply doesn’t make them.

Looking up at the sky, Levi can see a couple stars. No, they don’t light up the sky like they used to when he was younger, but they’re still quite pretty. Some people find stars inspirational. Levi just finds them calming. After all, what’s more calming than a flaming ball of gas?

Looking at the partly cloudy sky, he can almost pretend that he doesn’t hear the party. He can almost pretend that there aren’t a bunch of fresh-out-of-college brats throwing up behind him onto the grass.

Actually, he takes that back. The heaving and retching is driving him insane. And Hanji seems to notice too because they put their arms down and wrinkle their nose.

“Let’s go home,” Levi says, voice firm to let Hanji know that there’s no room for arguments.

Hanji doesn’t even try. Instead, they yawn, tossing Levi the car keys. “Fine, you win this year. I’ll go get Erwin.”

Hanji turns around, going back into the house to search for Erwin, and Levi lets himself indulge in the pleasure of triumph. This happens every year. Hanji and Erwin drag him off to a party, and they end up leaving early.

“I always win,” he yells out to Hanji, chuckling when they flip him the bird without turning around before being swallowed by the lights and bodies.

Levi scratches his arms, trying to get rid of the too-tight skin and grim covering him. Parties really aren’t his forte, and neither is socializing, drinking, or having fun.

Really, all Levi’s looking forward to is for Hanji to get their ass back with Erwin so he can go home and take a bubble bath.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! No Levi in this chapter because this chappy's all about sibling bonding!  
> So yes, Mikasa makes an appearance, but she's kind of ooc because she doesn't have to be a badass in this universe. 
> 
> Also, Eren's still angsty as fuck, but this fandom is 99% angst if the new snk chapter is anything to go by, so I think this is pretty tame is comparison. (Also, just a side note, but I love Eren, and I'll always be on Eren's side, so all the saltiness towards Eren from snk chappy 84 kind of made me fffffffffffff. Sorry, this isn't a place to discuss this. I know. But jesus on a flippin boat I don't understand the hate towards any of the characters 90% of the time)

11:46pm.

The clock is flashing brilliantly in the darkness of Eren’s room, and Eren drags his fatigued body out of bed. Who the hell is knocking on his door so close to midnight? Shouldn’t everyone be out partying?

The knocking on his door becomes more exigent the longer he waits, so he hurries to put on some slippers before yelling out a, “Coming.”

But seriously, why is there someone at his door?

His mind immediately spins in every direction, going to the worst case scenario. _Is it a serial killer? What if it’s a kidnapper? What if it’s a stranger who knocked on the wrong door trying to find the party? Or worse. What if it’s dad?_

Eren shivers at the last thought, frowning at how the December weather has affected his apartment.

“I’m coming,” he yells again when the knocking doesn’t cease.

Groaning, Eren drags his tired feet as quickly as they’ll go to the door, flicking on the lights as he goes, and he yanks the door open without a second thought of the repercussions that might await him.

“Huh…” Eren says, mouth open as he takes in the person in front of him. Well, he really wasn’t expecting that.

Mikasa looks at Eren, eyes red as if she’s been crying, and her mouth tilts up in a tired smile. “Hi,” she says weakly, voice flat. Her hand raises in a slight greeting, only to fall back down against her thigh when she notices Eren’s expression. Her shoulders tense, and she looks down to the ground as if ashamed.

Really, Eren can react two ways. The first way is to be angry, and Eren would be lying to say that he’s not tempted by the option. The second is to be forgiving, and the invite her in and crack open a bottle of champagne…not that Eren can even afford champagne. And also, the second option doesn’t sound as appealing as the first.

But Eren knows that Mikasa must be exhausted, and he knows that the yelling and screaming can be saved for tomorrow, so he settles for the second—albeit without the champagne—and opens the door wider to let Mikasa in without saying a word.

She visibly relaxes, and Eren’s heart thaws slightly. After all, he still loves his sister, even when he feels like killing her.

“Thanks,” she says, voice already warming, but Eren can’t find enough kindness in himself to respond with the same gentleness.

Although, he can feel his lip twitch slightly when she flies at him and embraces him into a bear hug. It’s sudden, and Eren stumbles back while trying to hold his ground. Her scarf engulfs him completely, and Eren finds that it’s so hard to stay angry. It’s so hard to stay angry when he’s so sad and happy at the same time.

She’s warm, Eren remarks. Under her clothes, Eren can feel the definition of hard muscle and soft curves, and he realizes that she’s grown a lot taller than him. It was a gradual growth, and Eren’s probably just short, but she’s tall enough that Eren fits against her body comfortably. She feels strong, sturdy, and secure—the complete opposite of the direction of Eren’s life. And Mikasa feel loving, despite the negative energy surrounding the atmosphere earlier.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles into his t shirt, and Eren only buries his head deeper into her scarf, trying to smell enough of her lemon detergent so he’ll never forget it. He’s not even surprised when he feels the burning behind his eyelids. He’s been crying so much lately that it’s almost second nature.

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” Eren admits, voice cracking as the tears finally work out of his eyes and onto Mikasa’s scarf. His heart is pounding, and he’s so full of _hurt._ But he’s grateful. He’s so grateful that she’s here. And he can feel Mikasa start to shake with repressed sobs, her heart beating so fast and so strong that Eren can feel it.

Eren can feel every thump.

And Mikasa seems to shudder, eyes teary when Eren finally gathers the courage to look at her.

“I’m sorry,” She says again, voice stronger this time. “I’m sorry I ditched you on Christmas.”

She looks away, face red, and Eren’s heart cracks with she starts to cry even harder. “I’m so pathetic,” she wails, backing away from Eren until she hits the wall. Eren rushes over to her, wanting to comfort her, but not knowing how.

He closes the door so that there are no unwanted eyes, and he looks over to her again. Even though she’s now taller than him, she looks like she’s trying to disappear. But Eren doesn’t know how to help someone so hurt when he doesn’t even know why she’s hurt in the first place. How’s he supposed to start the conversation?

“You’re not pathetic,” he says softly, because that’s the only thing he can think to say. He sniffles, wanting to curse his emotions for getting in the way.

“I’m sorry,” Mikasa repeats, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Mikasa—” Eren grimaces, reaching towards him. His head, chest, and everything hurts. But mostly his chest. Or maybe it’s just his heart. His heart that can’t seem to stop beating because he’s _scared._ He’s so scared, and upset, and maybe a little bit angry again.

“No, Eren. Let me talk. I should’ve been there for you on Christmas. I shouldn’t have been drinking away your money. I’m sorry.”

There’s that same word, over and over. _Sorry. Sorry. Sorry._

Eren frowns. “Stop saying sorry,” he says, eyes drying.

“I can’t,” she cries, sitting on the floor in a position that Eren’s very familiar with. “I can’t stop. I’m so fucking sorry and I know that apologies aren’t going to do anything. If I could rewind time, I would.”

“Stop,” Eren says again, this time more desperate. He doesn’t want to hear that word anymore. He doesn’t want to keep hearing her say, “ _Sorry_.” Because hell, she damn well better be sorry. But Eren’s more of the “actions speak louder than words” kind of person. So to him, her showing up today is enough of a sorry.

“I’ll start working,” Mikasa says, and Eren sits down next to her to rub her shoulders.

“You don’t have to.”

“I’ll start working,” she insists, drying her eyes on her scarf. It’s a red scarf, and it stands out against her mostly black attire. But Eren knows that it’s her favourite item of clothing because he got it for her as a welcome present when she was first adopted.

“Okay,” Eren agrees, but only to placate her. She’s said the exact same thing before, and she’s never followed through. Eren finds it hard to believe that she’ll follow through now just because she regrets her previous actions.

“I’m serious,” Mikasa sniffles, noticing Eren’s doubtful tone. Eren winces, wishing that he was a better at appeasing people.

“Okay,” Eren says again, this time firmer to let her know that he’s taking her seriously. But after so many times of giving her his trust only for her to break it, his belief in her has become fragile.

Even so, he finds that it’s worth it when she gives his a teary smile. “I really am sorry, you know.”

Eren nods. “I know.”

“I'm serious. I’ll make it up to you.”

Eren nods. “Okay.”

“Believe in me.”

_I want to. I really, really want to. But I don’t know how._

Eren nods. “Okay.”

“Please. Give me one last chance to be a good sister.”

_Show me that I can trust you. Show me that you won’t break me to pieces. Please. Show me what it’s like to have a sibling again._

But Eren doesn’t say any of that. Eren only nods and says, _“Okay.”_

What a useless word.

* * *

 

“I’m still mad at you,” Eren says once they both calm down. Mikasa doesn’t seem to take offence. Instead, she ruffles his hair and walks right by him to the kitchen.

“Do you have any food? I’m starving,” she says, timid, but also more confident by the second.

Eren rolls his eyes, wondering how she falls back into routine so easily even after all the absent years. It’s almost offensive, and very frustrating.

“No,” Eren deadpans, even as she searches the fridge.

“Liar,” she says, pulling out some leftover pasta from the night before along with a used fork.

Eren shrugs, shuffling over to a chair and sitting down. Sure, the dining table and chairs are old and cheap, but they work just fine.

“Also, I didn’t mention it before, but nice pyjamas.” Mikasa smiles softy, and Eren tries not to cringe. Tries not to cringe at the casual conversation and the awkward tension that has yet to dissipate. She is talking like they are still close. She is talking like nothing is wrong and that everything can be fixed with smiles. _You showed up, now show me that you’re willing to make this work. Please don’t just sit there and make idle conversation._

And yes, Eren’s wants this, but not quite in this way. He wants to rebuild their relationship on trust and new experiences. He doesn’t want her to just barge in and pretend that everything’s alright. It almost feels like cheating.

Eren suddenly registers what she said, and looks down at his pyjamas. Really, he’s just wearing a plain, gray t shirt with some blue-spotted, black pyjama pants. But whatever. He’ll take the compliment. “Thanks,” he says, turning away so she can’t see his frown.

She notices anyway. Probably because old habits die hard, and she can still pick up on his quirks. “What’s wrong?” She asks, setting the spaghetti and fork down.

Eren feels a pang in his chest, and it hurts more than expected. She should know what’s wrong. She should know that there’s barely anything that’s right.

“Nothing,” Eren says. Because apparantlly being depressed has also turned him into a chronic liar. He changes the subject. “Have you been taking your pills?”

Mikasa nods. “Yes, of course. And I think they’ve been helping.”

Eren studies her, searching for any hints that she’s lying. Her posture’s relaxed, and her face seems pretty neutral expect for the concern etched on it. He deduces that she’s telling the truth, and it relieves him. He’s glad that she’s at least proving him wrong in that aspect of her life.

“If you don’t believe me, ask Jean,” Mikasa says, even though Eren believes her just fine. But then again, it’s not like she would know that.

“Who’s Jean?” Eren asks.

“My boyfriend.”

Eren’s mouth opens into an ‘oh.’ But he quickly shuts it, turning away. Has he been replaced? Is that why Mikasa barely shows up anymore?

_Stop it._

Eren swallows, trying to stifle the jealousy. Jealously is a pointless emotion, just like so many others. With a meek voice, he says, “So he’s been making sure that you’ve been taking your pills?”

Mikasa nods again, concerned expression shifting into another smile, much more brilliant than the one before, and Eren’s stomach plummets. He wants to be happy for her, but there are so many other emotions swirling up that he just can’t seem to grasp the happiness.

For one, he’s concerned. After all, he doesn’t even know who Jean is. And two, he can feel the jealousy poking its nosy face into things again.

Still, he tries for a smile, fully aware that it wavers like a straw in the wind. “Cool,” he says, noticing how Mikasa ignores the way his voice cracks.

“He’s really good for me, Eren,” Mikasa tells him, eyes sparkling. “Really. He’s incredible.”

Eren swallows heavily, forcing himself to ignore the ugly emotions rearing their heads. “That’s nice,” He says and convincingly as he can, grinning tiredly back at her.

She notices, this time, how dreary he sounds. “Are you really okay?” she asks, stepping closer to him.

Eren takes a step back, trying not to think too much about the hurt that flashes across her face. _No, I’m not okay. I’m falling apart, and you’re never here to help._ He doesn’t say any of that. He _can’t._ It might just break her, and he can never let that happen.

Instead, he chances the subject. “Do you love him?”

“Huh?” Mikasa says, confused.

“Jean. Do you love him?” Eren clarifies, and the bright, sparkling expression overtakes Mikasa’s face again. Sighing in relief, Eren lets his shoulders fall. It never used to be so easy to divert her attention, but he guesses that People really do change like the weather, and that Mikasa’s no exception.

“I dunno,” Mikasa sighs. “Maybe. Probably. Does that sound crazy?”

Eren shakes his head, chest clenching. “No,” he forces himself to say as pleasantly as possible. “It doesn’t. It’s normal to love someone, after all.”

_Like how I love you. You’re my sister, and I love you to the moon and back, but do you feel the same?_

It hurts, but it doesn’t hurt as much as the fact that Mikasa can’t seem to tell that Eren’s not right. And that Eren’s bleeding from invisible wounds that she should be able to see.

 _Look at me!_ He wants to scream. He wants to shake her until she notices. He wants to shake her until she snaps out of her pretend world and joins him in the real one.

Because Mikasa, who was crying not too long ago, is now pretending like everything’s as dandy as could be.

But Eren knows that he’s being selfish, so he crushes everything down, and he lets himself smile as wide as his lips will go without it looking too fake. “I’m happy for you,” He says, trying not to spit it out.

And it’s worth it, Eren discovers, because Mikasa beams like the sun.

“Thank you,” She says. And, _oh no,_ Eren can see tears in her eyes again. But they’re happy tears this time, and Eren’s not sure how to feel about that. “Thank you for giving me another chance.”

A tear falls down her cheek, and Eren suddenly remembers a time when they were younger, and Mikasa rarely ever cried. And he remember how once, when they were young, Mikasa crawled into his bed. It was during a nasty spat between Grisha and Carla and the screaming was getting so loud that the entire house felt like it was shaking. Mikasa, with tiny tears running down her cheeks, had stumbled up to Eren, and he had let her cuddle up with him without a second word.

But those were simpler times, because Eren doesn’t even reach up to wipe her tears away anymore. He can’t physically bring himself to because it all feels so wrong.

There’s an entire boulder in his stomach that just won’t seem to budge, and Eren’s too tired to try and get rid of it. “It’s late. I think I’ll go to bed now,” Eren says, and Mikasa’s happiness fades to dejection. The guilt is almost unbearable, but he rolls with it.

“But it’s not even midnight yet,” Mikasa protests, following Eren as he makes his way to his room.

“I’m sorry,” Eren says, and he really is. He’s sorry that he’s not the picture perfect brother Mikasa wanted to come home to. He’s sorry that he’s not energetic enough to stay up for the New Year’s celebration. After all, it’s only another couple of minutes.

But he doesn’t want to countdown, and he doesn’t want to be standing in the kitchen when the fireworks go off. No, he wants to be in the comfort of his room, with his blankets pulled over his head. Because that’s where it’s safe and quiet, and that’s where no one can hurt him.

And Mikasa’s only been in the apartment for around fifteen minutes, but it already feel suffocation. Eren’s well aware that he’s being contradictory because he was moping just a couple weeks ago about how Mikasa ditched him. But having her back just doesn’t feel like how he thought it would feel. It feels pretend. And yes, he’s a hypocrite because he’s probably the bigger faker out of the two of them, but at least he’s not acting their sibling relationship is up to date when it’s not.

“Eren. It’s literally in like twenty seconds. Please, just stay here with me a little longer.”

Eren sighs, and he looks at the clock on his wall to find that there’s really no time to go back to his room after all. So, dejected, he sits on a ratty chair in the kitchen, and waits as Mikasa joins him.

“Will you count down with me for old time’s sake?” She asks, hopeful, and Eren doesn’t really have the heart to say ‘no’ any more than he already has today.

So he nods, throat dry.

_Old time’s sake, huh?_

“Ten,” they say together, and Eren can feel the pang of nostalgia all the way down to his toes.

“Nine.”

Eren starts to feel queasy, but he forces the feeling down.

“Eight.”

He’s empty, and apprehensive, and terrified all at once. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen. The New Year seems so close now, but he doesn’t want it to come.

“Seven.”

He doesn’t want it to come because he knows that nothing will change. The number will go up, and people will celebrate and make shitty resolutions. But to what avail? All the resolutions Eren makes end up down the drain anyway.

“Six.”

The weight on his shoulders is crushing, and Eren struggles to keep counting. What number were they on again? Maybe it was—

“Five.”

Oh, right. It was five.

“Four.”

Eren swallows, tasting the blood form his cracked lips, and he tries not to cry. It’s too much. It’s all too much.

“Three.”

There’s so much he wants to say to Mikasa. There’s so much he wants to tell her that he just can’t bring himself to spit out.

“Two.”

He wonders what Levi and Hanji are doing right now. Are they at a party? Probably, although Eren can’t really see Levi at a party. Hanji, maybe. But definitely not Levi.

“One.”

It’s over, Eren remarks once the word leaves his mouth, and Mikasa smiles contently. She leans her head onto Eren’s shoulder, and he lets her stay.

Fireworks are immediately heard, and Eren’s betting that the sky will be filled with colour if he looks out his window. It’s loud and scary, and he hates it, but he wants nothing more than to retreat into his room and never come back.

But he looks at Mikasa’s face, and she looks so happy that he can’t really remember why he didn’t want to do this in the first place.

“Thank you,” she whispers, eyes closed as she smiles. “Thank you for doing this with me.”

And Eren can’t really bring himself to say anything, so with a careful motion, he places his hand onto Mikasa’s head. Gently, he treads his fingers through her hair, and she hums with content, and Eren thinks that his night went okay.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. This is unedited because I was in a rush to get this up, so sorry for the mistakes. Hopefully it doesn't take too much away from the chapter.

Hanji picks up on the second ring, much to Eren’s amusement and terror. He was initially hoping that they wouldn’t pick up so fast so that he’d have time to gather his thoughts. But perhaps he should’ve done that before he picked up the phone.

The only reason he’s in such a haste to call them is because he knows that he’ll convince himself not to if he wastes another second. Eren’s the type of person who’ll end up making a pile of bad excuses for himself just to get out of a situation.

“Hello, this is Hanji Zoë,” they say, voice fuzzy through the bad connection.

Eren blinks. One. Twice. Huh, he wasn’t expecting their greeting to be so…professional. Although considering that Hanji is, in fact, a professional, it would be weird if it wasn’t.

“Uh, hi,” Eren says, blushing bright red. “It’s Eren. I, uh, Levi told me to talk to you.”

God, can this get any more awkward? Eren takes his free hand and holds it to his face, trying to fight the urge to suffocate himself.

There’s a clanging on the other side of the phone after Eren speaks, and a surprised intake of a breath. “Oh! Hi, cutie! You calling to make an appointment with Dr. Hanji?” Hanji’s voice explodes through the phone, professionalism gone, and Eren yelps, bringing the phone away. He also finds that his face naturally frowns once he realizes that he’s stuck with the unfortunate nickname.

Eren opens his mouth, at loss for what to say, but with much difficulty he manages to squeak out a, “Yes.” It’s probably one of the most embarrassing sounds he’s ever made.

Thankfully, Hanji continues as if his voice wasn’t just ten octaves higher than usual. “That’s great!” they say, and it sounds like they mean it. “I knew you would call. So, what time are you free? Do you want me to come over for the sessions so that you’ll feel more comfortable, or maybe you can come over to mine? Oh! Or maybe we can both go to Levi’s and he can watch. Wait, that’ll probably make you feel uncomfortable, so never mind. Oh, I just got an idea! Maybe you and Levi can have joint therapy sessions with Mama Hanji here. I mean, Levi hasn’t gone to therapy in…forever…but I’m sure he’ll agree once he knows that you’re going to be there too. Yes, this is a great idea.” There’s a pause, and a sharp intake of a breath, and a quick exhale. “But then again, now that I think about it. It’s not a good idea at all.” Another pause, and Eren can hear Hanji let out a deflate sigh that makes him feel guilty for some reason. “Ah, never mind. I’m rambling again, aren’t I? Sorry, Eren.”

Eren shakes his head before remembering that Hanji can’t see him, so he says, “No. It’s fine.” Even though it’s not really fine seeing as he didn’t understand any of what Hanji just said. All he heard was “Levi…” and “Therapy…” and some other mumbo jumbo. But it’s not that he can tell Hanji that, so he keeps quiet.

“No, no,” Hanji disagrees, voice still light with their seemingly never-ending energy. “This isn’t about Levi. This is about you. I’m sorry that I went on a tangent there for a second. But anyway, what arrangement do you prefer? I have an office, but it doesn’t have the most pleasant environment, so I was thinking that one of our houses would be better.”

“My house is fine,” Eren says, trying to swallow all his nerves. It’s easier to talk to Hanji now that he’s started. And he thinks that that’s predominantly because Hanji does most of the talking.

“That’s great! What time works for you? Is once a week fine?”

Eren nods, but then remembers for the second time that Hanji can’t see him. Fuck, he sucks at this phone thing. “Uh, yeah. I’m free on Saturday, I work on the weekdays and I sometimes take extra hours, so I’ll tell you if anything comes up,” he tells them. He neglects to mention that he doesn’t have any extracurricular activities, so even if he does take extra hours, he doesn’t really do much other than some writing and reading in his spare time. It’s the most boring of existences in Eren’s opinion.

“That’s good. I’m free on Saturdays too at 1:00pm. Is 1:00pm good for you?” Hanji asks, and Eren thinks it’s unfair for someone to sound so excited all the time.

“Yeah,” Eren replies, coughing to dispel the croakiness of his throat. “That sounds good.”

“Coolio! I’ll be over next Saturday then.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s no problem,” Hanji dismisses.

There’s a moment of silence where Eren contemplates if he’s supposed to hang up, but Hanji speaks again. “Say, Eren, what did you do for the New Year’s celebration?”

Eren’s hand goes rigid around the phone, and his mouth suddenly feels parched. “I, uh, spent it with my sister.”

“That sounds nice. What’s she’s like?”

“Hanji,” Eren whines quietly, biting his lip. “I thought that the therapy session was for Saturday.”

In a normal situation, Eren probably wouldn’t have had the nerve to talk to someone like that. But, for some reason, he _really_ doesn’t want to talk about his relationship with Mikasa. His relationship with Mikasa is…complicated. And, honestly, he doesn’t understand why she’s even back, and why she wanted to spend the New Year with him. He’s glad that she did what she did, but he was so sure, at the time, that she would’ve been out partying. But she’s somehow back, and she seems happy, but she also wants to pretend that Eren still trusts her the way he used to. And the problem with that is that he doesn’t. He loves her, but he doesn’t trust her.

Hanji, thankfully, seems to get the memo because they sound sympathetic when they say, “Right. Sorry. It’s none of my business.”

Eren feels bad for a second for bringing down Hanji’s spirits. But then Hanji continues, and Eren’s worries are momentarily forgotten.

“Anyway!” Hanji laughs. “I spent my New Year with a midget and a giant. The midget, of course, being Levi. And the giant being Erwin, our good friend.”

Eren smiles slightly, glad to hear the spring back in Hanji’s voice. “How was the party?”

“Oh, it was fine. Levi made us leave early.”

“Why?” Eren asks, genuinely curious and maybe a little concerned. “Did something go wrong? Is he okay?”

He hears Hanji groan through the phone, and he’s scared that he’s managed to annoy them for a second. But then he realizes that it’s probably a groan of exasperation at Levi for making them leave the party early. Probably.

“Levi has managed to make us leave every single party early for the past decade because he hates people. I swear that I’ve never been to a party past midnight with the grumpy old man.”

It’s such a Levi thing to do that Eren surprises himself with a laugh, and he instantly covers his mouth. Oops, that wasn’t supposed to happen. And also, with his eyebrows furrowed, Eren wonders why he thinks he knows Levi so well. He doesn’t. He doesn’t really know Levi at all, and it’s creepy that he literally thought, ‘ _Oh, that’s a Levi thing to do.’_ Because how is se supposed to know what Levi would do? His knowledge of the older man is limited. Hell, Eren doesn’t even know his age!

But then there’s a loud squeal through the phone that breaks him out of his reverie, and he blinks, stunned at the sudden, high-pitched noise. The squeal is quickly followed by some scrambling, the sound of something crashing, and Hanji’s muffled, frenzied voice coming from the other side. “That was the cutest laugh I’ve ever heard! Holy shit, that was the cutest laugh in the world! Levi. LEVI, come here!”

There seems to be something akin to flame lighting on Eren’s face, and he has to fan himself to keep the blush off. It doesn’t work, obviously, and he doesn’t know why he’s trying seeing as there’s no one there to see him. Mikasa’s out getting some groceries, and it’s only him at home.

Through the phone, he can hear some screaming, some persuading, and finally, he can hear Levi’s annoyed grumble. Eren’s mouth stretches unconsciously into a smile, and he touches his lips to try and force it down, but to no avail. It’s good information to know that Levi and Hanji are hanging out, and Eren’s just happy that they seem to be good friends.

“Hey, Eren,” Levi says, voice clear and low. And then, less clearly, and directed at Hanji, Levi says, “There, I said ‘hi.’ Are you happy?”

Eren laughs again, unable to stop himself. There’s just something about Levi’s deadpan voice that’s always so amusing.

“Oh my god!” He hears Hanji squeal again. “Levi, did you hear that?! LEVI. Oi, I’m talking to you, you stupid midget. Come back!”

And, through a lot of static, Eren just barely hears Levi hiss, “Yes. It was goddamn adorable. Not shut up and leave me alone.”

Eren doesn’t think it’s possible for him to get any brighter red. Was he even supposed to hear that? Probably not.

“Um, Hanji,” Eren squeaks, just a little bit breathless from his mortification. “I, uh, need to go now.”

“Right, right. You’re probably busy! I’ll see you on—“

Hanji cuts off, and here’s a rustle, followed by Levi’s voice, in the background, saying, “Oi, shitty glasses, get the fuck off my foot.”

Eren hears Hanji’s half-hearted apology, although it sounds like it’s underwater, before their voice is clear again.

“Anyway, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, see you on Saturday!” Hanji says, and Eren can’t seem to force himself to reply seeing as he’s too busy trying to not burst into flames.

There’s more arguing in the background, and the sound of many, many curse words, before someone’s breathing is heard through the phone.

“Bye, Eren,” Levi says, and Eren swears that he’s making his voice husky on purpose.

“Bye,” Eren tries to say without choking, and he wonders what’s going on. He doesn’t understand why he’s acting like he’s thirteen again, but he’s glad for the warm, fuzzy feeling opening up in his chest. It’s a good distraction from the usual black hole.

There’s a click, and Eren knows that either Levi or Hanji has hung up, but Eren can’t seem to bring himself to put the phone down. There’s another feeling stirring inside him, and Eren’s pretty sure it’s pride. Sure, it might be silly for any other person to feel pride at making a single phone call. But for Eren, it feels revolutionary. Yes, he’s red as a tomato. And yes, his heart is beating so fast it’s about to burst, but at least he did what he set out to do. And it’s so rare for Eren to not back out of something that he feels rather accomplished.

And it wasn’t as hard as he worked himself up to believe. Yes, it was extremely mortifying. And yes, he probably embarrassed himself on nine different levels. But the phone call itself was productive, and Eren thinks that he can definitely get used to the lightness in his chest.

Lurking inside him, the heaviness remains. And lurking inside him, the clouds still reign. But Eren accepts the little bit of sunshine he feels as a blessing, and he clings to it.

He sets the phone down to the table closest to him, and he can feel his face splitting into a grin. He’s sure that he looks like an idiot right now, but he finds that he doesn’t mind all too much. He also finds that he’s rather looking forward to the therapy session with Hanji, even though he was extremely reluctant before. After all, the phone call taught him that he shouldn’t judge something before he tries it. And who knows? Maybe Hanji will actually help.

Something’s blossoming in Eren, and he wants it to stay forever. He knows it’s unrealistic, and he knows that it’ll wither away in a couple of hours, but he doesn’t want it to go. The feeling, no matter how foreign, is a pleasant one. He knows that when the initial elation wears off, he’ll be lonely again. And he knows that it’ll be the kind of lonely only friendship and company can fix. But at the moment, Eren’s pretty sure he only has two friends. Three if he counts Armin, but Armin’s not even present so Eren doubts that he even counts. So two friends it is: Hanji and Levi.

He has Mikasa too, but his relationship with her feels too fake to be comforting, and too forced to get rid of the constant loneliness engulfing him. Most times, or all the time, Eren hates the way his brain is wired. He hates how he’s the gloomy, annoying cloud that ruins everyone’s otherwise perfect sky. He hates how he’s pretty much known at the ‘party pooper.’

But, just this once, Eren allows himself a little bit of happiness. After all, it’s not every day that something actually goes to plan. In fact, most times, Eren’s plans go down burning in flames. For example, the bridge incident definitely didn’t end up as planned. But then again, Eren’s pretty sure that’s a good thing, so maybe the bridge is a bad example.

There’s a pang in his chest at the reminder of the bridge, and it’s both unpleasant and pleasant at the same time.

Eren shakes his legs, walking back and forth the small apartment, trying to distract his thoughts before they become too consuming. He doesn’t want the lethargy to come back, and he doesn’t want to be reminded of the bridge again. He doesn’t want to be reminded of anything except for Levi, and Hanji, and his therapy session on Saturday. Actually, scratch that, he doesn’t really want to be reminded of his therapy session either.

He just wants to not think, but it’s that kind of thinking that almost killed him, so he forces himself to think. He forces himself to think of puppies, and kittens, and gray, piercing eyes. Wait, what? Where the fuck did the ‘gray, piercing eyes’ come from?

Gnawing on his bottom lip, Eren wrings his hands, still pacing his apartment. He knows that he’s thinking of Levi’s eyes. And shit, he’s totally, completely wrecked. He really, _really_ doesn’t want his growing infatuation with the man to get out of hand. But then again, it’s not the worst thing to think about. Although Levi’s eyes are cold, Eren’s sure that he can remember them warming at one point too. And even though his memory of anything is fuzzy at best, Levi stands out in perfect clarity, probably because the impact he already has on Eren’s life.

Blushing furiously, Eren picks the phone back up and goes through his contacts. After all, a phone call is only the beginning. If he wants to stop distancing himself, he should make an effort.

It’s that exact mindset, and a burst of courage, that causes to send the text.

_To: Captain Levi_

_What happened to the haircut you promised me?_

**_Message sent at 3:01PM, January 3_ **

The moment he presses send, he wants to hide his face. God, did he have to be so straight forward? Even as Eren reads the text over again, he can’t help but feel like it sounds horrendously flirty. And he didn’t mean for it to sound flirty at all!

He tosses his phone aside, groaning, and decides that sudden courage doesn’t bode well, and that maybe he should take a nap or something.

Eren walks slowly to his room, and closes the door behind him. It’s not exactly peaceful since he can still hear the occasional car, but it feels much less empty than the kitchen or living room. There’s a sort of comfort to be able to be alone but not lonely. He finds that he room fits the criteria quite nicely, and it’s always a good place for some introspection.

Flopping onto his bed ungracefully, he looks at his ceiling, staring at the bumps and unevenness. He doesn’t know why the ceilings can’t be smooth, but he also finds that the bumps on the ceiling make it look oddly attractive. And then Eren realizes that he’s judging the bumps on the ceiling and he tears his eyes away, shaking his head. He must really be tired if he’s thinking about such stupid things.

He glances to his closet, and he notices the blue, yellow, and sparkly bag, untouched since Christmas, and he frowns. Hanji had given him a black notebook and a ballpoint pen for Christmas, with the words, _“You should write down your feelings. It’ll make you feel less…burdened.”_ To which, even now, Eren questions how they knew. Perhaps Hanji is just really good at reading people. After all, they’re probably not a psychologist for no reason. Yet, looking at the sparkly bag, he doesn’t feel the urge to write anything at all. He has no motivation half the time to pick himself up off the bed, much less pick up a pen. It’s discouraging, and he thinks that the disappointment he feels is because his subconscious thinks that he’s failed a friend. And Eren guesses that in some aspects, it’s true.

The loud _bing_ that echoes around the house snaps him out of his thoughts, and he sits up slowly, looking around in a daze. Huh, what was that noise?

There’s another _bing,_ and he gets off the bed, exiting the room to where the sound is coming from. He enters the living room, and catches sight of his phone.

Oh.

Feeling silly, Eren picks up his phone. It’s bizarre because he never gets notification or messages. But that’s because he doesn’t really talk to anyone anymore. And then he sees that it’s a text, and that it’s from Levi, and his stomach definitely _does not_ do a flip.

_From: Captain Levi_

_My bad. It must’ve slipped my mind. If you come over tomorrow, I’ll make it up to you._

**_Message received at 3:15PM, January 3_ **

Okay, so maybe he stomach _is_ flipping, but it’s not exactly pleasant flipping either. In fact, Eren feels a bit queasy, and definitely very tomato-like. Crushes suck.

_Whoa there, soldier, slow down_. Who said anything about crushes?! Eren bites on his lip. Hard. And he tastes the flavor of coppery blood. He hates how easily he grows attached to people, and how easily he lets them go. He doesn’t want Levi to be someone he pines after, only to give up in a month. He wants Levi to be a permanent fixture in his life, and he doesn’t want to do it by crushing after the older man. The older man, Eren reminds himself, who he doesn’t even know the age of.

_From: Captain Levi_

_Whoops. That was a lot more suggestive than I intended. Anyway, I can pick you up tomorrow if you’re free, and we can hang out at my place after I give you the promised haircut. That is, if you don’t mind hanging out after._

**_Message received at 3:16PM, January 3_ **

After seeing the new text, Eren realizes that letting go of his admiration (he can’t stand calling it a ‘crush’ anymore) might be a little difficult. Especially with the way his lips tilt up. It’s a bit of a melancholic smile, he thinks, but it’s a smile none the less.

_Human beings are ridiculous; they want what they can’t have._ Eren sighs, sitting down on a ratty sofa, and rests his chin on his hand.

_To: Captain Levi_

_Good thing I’m free tomorrow then ;)_

**_Message sent at 3:16PM, January 3_ **

_To: Captain Levi_

_***:) THAT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE A WINKY FACE. SORRY!!_

**_Message sent at 3:16PM, January 3_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something lighthearted for today because I could. And because of of the shit storms to come. ;)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance for the choppiness of the beginning of this chapter. School's started again so I didn't have time to edit it. On the bright side, it's probably the longest chapter so far. 
> 
> Trigger warning for self harm and panic attacks.

Looking at the messages, Levi finds that he’s smiling, lips curved up in amusement. It’s silly for Eren to get so worked up over something as small as a smiley face, but he already knows, in his short span of knowing the boy, that he gets worked up easily.

And as impulsive as Eren is, Levi can’t help but worry. Yes, he’s glad that Eren’s made an appointment with Hanji. And yes, he’s glad that Eren’s keeping in touch. And yes, little things matter a lot. But Levi’s a man who’s good at detecting bullshit, and he concludes that all of Eren’s texts are utter bullshit. At least, the smiley face part. He probably sent a winking face on purpose, and then regretted it. After all, Levi’s been there, done that.

Nonetheless, it’s cute.

Cute.

Shit.

If Hanji finds out, they’ll never let him live it down. Leave it to Levi to start crushing on a kid who’s probably a decade younger, and who doesn’t even want to live.

_Stop it,_ he chides himself. He’s always been someone who thinks jumping to conclusions is stupid, so he really shouldn’t say that Eren still wants to die. After all, the kid’s probably trying really hard to be positive, and Levi shouldn’t rain on his parade.

Shaking his head, Levi takes a sip of his tea, swirling it in his mug absent mindedly. Winter break is definitely the time of having _nothing to do._ All Levi’s been doing is sitting. Sometimes he goes for jogs, and sometimes he goes out with Hanji and Erwin, but mostly he just sits, and reads, and plans projects for his shitty students. He’s thankful that he gets to go back to work on Monday, but there’s still a couple of days. At the very least, he’s glad that he’s made plans for tomorrow.

If you asked Levi what he wanted to be when he grew up, he never would’ve said, “college professor,” but he finds that now that he’s in in the profession, he doesn’t mind it. It’s not overly stressful, and his workload is manageable. And he likes passing down his knowledge to the younger generation. It’s a rewarding job, and really, the worst part is the snotty kids. Even so, they aren’t _horrible._ And Eren’s probably the same age as the students he teaches.

Levi shivers at the thought, and not for the first time, he marvels at how young Eren is. Too young to be jumping off a bridge. Too young to be hanging out with an old man like himself.

“Hanji,” he glances over at them. “Do you think I’m old?”

“Heh?” Hanji looks over at him, perplexed, and tightens their pony tail. “Where did this suddenly come from?”

“Just answer the damn question.” It’s not often that Levi strongly regrets what he says, but he wishes that he didn’t even open his mouth. It’s embarrassing, and it puts a dent in Levi’s pride.

“Levi,” Hanji frowns, actually taking a question seriously for once. Because although Hanji may often joke about Levi being old, they’ve never been asked this question with such solemnity before. “You look like you’re twenty-five. I wouldn’t call that old.”

“But I’m _not_ twenty-five,” Levi stresses, running a hand through his hair. He remembers the text conversation he’s currently having with Eren, and it makes him feel like a predator, praying on the young and naïve. Not that Levi thinks Eren’s naïve because that’s not the case at all. It just feels like way with Eren being nearly an entire generation younger.

“You’re not even middle-aged,” Hanji points out.

“Middle-age is subjective.”

“I don’t think you’re old,” Hanji says, patting him on the shoulder and smirking slightly when he cringes away. Their sweaty hands are disgusting, and Levi prefers if they don’t touch him with their filthy fingers. “Besides,” Hanji continues, “We’re the same age. Are you calling me old?”

Levi can easily make a joke out of it and say that, _yes, he does find Hanji old._ But he decides to go for a more legitimate approach. Does he find Hanji old? They’re eccentric, and energetic, and they certainly don’t _act_ old. And now that he takes a careful look at their face, they don’t look old either. Bad glasses, messy hair, tanned skin, barely detectable smile wrinkles, and warm eyes. They can probably pass for mid-twenties.

“No,” Levi decides, sighing as he glances at the texts again. “You’re not old at all.”

Hanji nods, smiling. “Exactly. I believe that applies to you too.”

Levi wants to agree. He wants to agree so badly, but he can’t. “But I feel old.” He slumps on the couch, trying to pretend like he’s not dejected and failing miserably. “I feel achy, and tired, and like a grandpa.”

Hanji, bless them for their sharp eyes, notices the phone in Levi’s hand, and the texts on the screen. “Is this about Eren?”

Levi doesn’t even bothering responding because it’s evident now how obvious he’s being. He’s never really cared for age before, so it’s quite strange that he’s suddenly fretting about it now.

“Levi.” He hates the pitiful tone of Hanji’s voice, and how they suddenly scooch closer. “Age is just a number.”

“That’s such a stupid saying,” Levi grumbles, pushing them off.

“But it’s true. Sure, Eren’s young, but he’s been through some shit. I can tell, and I know that you can tell too.  I don’t know how you two met, but I know it wasn’t at the mall or the carnival.”

Of course it wasn’t at the fucking mall or carnival. Levi wouldn’t even stand ten meters from a shitty brat at the mall or carnival. No, it’s almost an insulting thing to think about.

“It was on a bridge,” Levi blurts out before being able to stop himself. He immediately looks up, terrified, because that definitely wasn’t supposed to leave him mouth. Guilt settles in his stomach, and he suddenly feel queasy. It’s like he betrayed Eren’s trust, even by saying those five words.

“A…bridge?” Hanji’s eyebrows furrow, and it’s obvious by now that they’ve pieced it together. “Oh,” they say, frowning even deeper than before. Levi thinks he’s going to throw up, and he actually moves to stand up before Hanji speaks up. “So you’re telling me that you saved him,” they say, eyes twinkling, and Levi swallows, sitting back down.

“I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.” The twinkle in Hanji’s eyes disturbs him.

“But you, _you,_ the supposedly apathetic midget, saved him. No wonder why you seemed so fond of each other while we hung out together.”

“Fuck,” Levi groans, ignoring the ‘fond’ part completely. “He was supposed to tell you this himself.”

At those words, Hanji grows significantly more somber, sighing loudly. “Probably, yeah. But I’m just glad he’s not dead.” They look over at Levi, a bittersweet grin on their face. “Besides, I’ve grown a bit fond of him too. It’s strange because you don’t normally connect with people so easily. You’ve known him for, like what, just over a week? But I guess it makes sense because you saved him. But then again, a week is also a long time, isn’t it? It’s seven days, and twenty-four hours every day. That would be like—what—” a pause as they calculate, “—168 hours?”

And there’s that word again: saved. Levi, for some reason, feels itchy thinking about it. It’s true, he saved Eren’s life. And it’s true, he’s glad that Eren’s not dead. And sure, he’s looking forward to hanging out with him tomorrow. But Eren’s just a kid, and Levi already feels like he’s getting gray hairs.

“A week is fucking short. I don’t know how this even happened,” Levi says tiredly, rubbing his eyes as he rests his elbows on his knees.

Hanji pats his head sympathetically, jumping away once Levi swats at them. “Erwin and I became best friends in like ten minutes. Time is irrelevant in situations like this.”

“That’s because you’re both deranged,” Levi drawls, turning away from Hanji to hide his grateful expression. The last thing he needs is for them to grow smug because god knows that their ego is big enough as it is.

Hanji shrugs, and Levi knows that they’re grinning from ear to ear. “Maybe, but you love us. And maybe you’ll grow to love Eren too.”

Levi tenses for a second, letting the words sink and, and he lets himself entertain the idea for a second. He knows it’s illogical, and he knows it’s stupid. But he’s already, and Hanji puts it, quite fond of Eren. It’s not a stretch to say that he can grow to love him too. After all, love isn’t strictly romantic, and Levi doesn’t’ even know if he’s ever felt romantic love in his life before. Of course he’s afraid. He’s afraid that he only likes Eren because he likes the idea of having something to fix. He’s afraid that Eren will only become a project for him. But Levi’s not a dick, and Eren’s not a toy to be fixed. He’s a human being with and odd, boyish charm, and eyes so green that they make the ocean look gray. So yes, Levi entertains the idea of loving someone other than Hanji and Erwin, and he thinks that maybe it doesn’t sound so bad. Hidden from view, there’s an eye twitch, a snort, and behind pale hands, a smile and the whisper of a, _“Maybe.”_

* * *

 

Eren’s arm is covered is welts created by elastic bands. He regrets it a little, mostly because he’s seeing Levi today. He feels as if he’s disappointed the older man somehow (how old is he anyway? Does Eren dare to ask?).

Something as harmless as elastic bands have proven to be quite harmful. He doesn’t know why he does it. All he knows is that the breath-hitching, stinging pain somehow makes him feel better. And worse. But he tends to ignore the ‘worse’ part and focus on the ‘better.’

It’s not healthy, and Eren knows it, but he doesn’t know how to stop it. He tries to placate himself by saying that _at least he doesn’t use blades_ , but even he knows that it’s only a matter of time. He knows it’s gotten bad because he’s managed to break his skin with elastics, and he knows it’s gotten bad because his arms look like a disaster, but at least he’s not cutting. At least he hasn’t gone that far. The _‘yet’_ lingers at the back of his mind, but he pushes it aside for the moment.

The sting lingers, and Eren regrets, regrets, and regrets. He remembers talking to Hanji yesterday, and he remembers texting Levi, and he feels light and free and incredible. But then he remembers that he has work tomorrow, and he’s so _tired._ He’s thankful for his job, of course. After all, there aren’t many jobs available for people without university diplomas. And sure, working is boring and frustrating, but it can be a lot worse.

“Eren?” Mikasa calls out, knocking on his door. His heart pounds, startled, because he forgot she was even in the apartment. They haven’t really interacted much after the countdown, and he doesn’t mind it so much. It’s lonely, but Eren’s grown accustomed to the loneliness. “Is it alright if I make breakfast?”

Sighing, Eren pulls his sleeves over his hands, and exits his room. “Sure,” he calls back, trying to sound upbeat for her sake. It’s pretty easy once he remembers that he’s going to be seeing Levi soon, so he tries to focus on that instead of the black hole in his stomach. After all, she’s going back to her campus later on in the day, and Eren already feels bad enough that he’s not spending her remaining time in the apartment with her.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, entering the kitchen to find her blending fruits. “A smoothie?”

“A smoothie _bowl_ ,” she corrects, beaming up at him. He fidgets under her smile, trying to not look uncomfortable. “I got some cheap ass granola at the grocery store the other day—the brand we always get—because you didn’t have any.” She frowns. “You should really take better care of yourself.”

“I will,” he agrees, mostly just to get her off his back. He walks over to help her, getting the bowls and spoons out from the cupboard and setting them next to the blender.

After making the smoothie bowls, they eat together with idle chitchat, and Eren just tries his best to at least look interested in what she’s saying. The smoothie bowl taste fine, but he’s not really focusing on his breakfast. He’s more focused on the way his legs are shaking with anticipation, and how his hands have gone clammy.

“I’ll wash the dishes,” Mikasa offers once they both clear their bowls, and Eren nods absentmindedly, glad that he managed to finish the meal.

They brush past each other when Eren moves to fish his phone from his pocket, and he notices how Mikasa immediately recoils for a second. It seems that she’s not used to his contact either, and he doesn’t know how to really feel about that.

He decides to not think too much about it for the time being, and instead calls Levi.

“Hey,” Levi picks up on the second ring.

“Hey, are you picking me up, or am I going over on my own?”

“I’m picking you up.” A pause. “I’m actually outside your door right now.” Another pause. “Jesus, that sounded creepy.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Eren rushes, putting on his shoes. The butterflies in his stomach won’t calm down, and he swears that his heartbeat has accelerated. “I’m just surprised you’re already here.”

“Sorry. I probably should’ve warned you.”

Eren hangs up and opens the door, a little bit breathless. “No really, it’s fine. Thanks for picking me up,” he tells Levi to his face, watching the man put his phone away with a raised eyebrow.

“Ready to go?” Levi asks, hands tucked into his pockets a little awkwardly.

“Yeah.” Eren makes sure that he still has his phone, and also that his wallet is safely tucked away in his pocket. “Mikasa, I’m leaving.”

She doesn’t even glance up from the dishes. “Be safe.”

Eren steps out the apartment, closing the door behind him, and turns to Levi. “You remember where I live,” he states, and Levi nods.

“I remember the address. Modern day technology makes the rest easy.” He glances at Eren often, even as they’re walking, and it makes tingles go up Eren’s spine in a way that’s both pleasant and unpleasant. There’s a longing too, but he can’t really identify why that is.

“Thanks for picking me up,” Eren says before remembering that he already thanked Levi. “Sorry, I already said that.”

Levi tilts his head, rubbing Eren’s arm soothingly. “Stop apologizing so much. Seriously, it’s weird. I don’t mind being thanked more than once.”

There’s something about Levi that makes Eren always want to agree with him, so he nods instead of apologizing again, liking the comfortable silence that they’ve fallen into. Levi’s dressed tight, black jeans, black shoes, and a black, long sleeved shirt. He looks like he’s going to a funeral, but Eren thinks that it’s probably just his style. The shirt fits him well, and Eren doesn’t think he’ll ever stop being shocked at how in shape Levi is.

The wind outside is freezing, and it blows through Eren’s hair the moment they step out of the building together. He immediately starts to shiver, and he pulls the sleeves of his sweater lower over his hands to form little sweater paws. It’s only half because of the cold. The other half is because of the welts from the elastics.

_Failure._

The word echoes in his head, but Eren quickly shakes it away, trying not to let it distract him. It doesn’t matter anymore. What’s done is done, and he shouldn’t keep thinking about it. Except…the regret. It’s eating him from inside out, but it doesn’t sicken him nearly as much as the accomplishment he feels. He shouldn’t feel accomplished for hurting himself, but a small part of him does.

“How short do you want your hair?” Levi asks, leading Eren to his car. It’s much warmer inside the vehicle, but Eren still shivers, shrugging his shoulders.

“I don’t care,” he says honestly. “Just shorter than it is now.” He never puts much though in his hair style, and he rarely goes out to get it cut. Mikasa used to cut it for him, and he used to cut hers, but that was a long time ago. Now he just uses safety scissors once in a while to cut it randomly just so it doesn’t prove to be a nuisance.

Eren notices Levi’s frown, and his stomach immediately drops. Did he says something wrong? He doesn’t really know how to ask, so he just fidgets in his seat, putting on the seatbelt to give his hands something to do. Levi starts the car, and it’s suddenly too quiet.

_What did I do wrong?_

Finally, once the car the rolling, Levi talks, eyes fixed on the road. “Are you,” he sighs, “okay?” There’s something tentative about the way he asks his question, and Eren doesn’t know how to answer to make Levi believe his lies.

So he shrugs again, heart sinking as Levi’s frown deepens. “I…” Eren starts, and he’s not sure how to continue. But they’ve stopped at a red light, and Levi’s looking at him so attentively that his mouth goes dry, and he’s suddenly struck with a déjà vu to the first night they met. Which, admittedly, isn’t too long ago, but long enough that it means something. “It’s lonely in my apartment,” he finally says because that’s all Eren really knows how to say.

“I thought you told Hanji that your sister’s there right now?”

“We’re not very close…anymore…and she’s leaving today.” Eren stares at his fingers, and Levi turns back to the road because the light is green again. But his right hand reaches out to Eren, left hand on the wheel, and he sets it on Eren’s thigh, gentle and reassuring. Maybe it should’ve been awkward, but Eren doesn’t feel anything over the warm flush of his cheeks and the steady beats of his heart.

“Why aren’t you with her today, then?” Levi doesn’t sound judgmental or patronizing, so Eren lets himself ease just a little, trying to force his heart to calm down.

“I just…things are awkward between us, and I don’t think she really likes being with me.”

“I don’t think she’d come and see you if she didn’t like being with you,” Levi points out, and maybe Eren agrees to a certain extent, but the insecure part of him tends to overpower the logical part.

“Things are strained,” is all Eren can really think to say, so he leaves it at that.

Levi nods, and he looks like he wants to say more but he doesn’t push it. For that, Eren’s glad, but he knows how much of a brat he must sound like. After all, Levi lost two of his friends, so he must be the type of person to cherish every moment with someone because he knows firsthand what it’s like to have those moments taken away. And he knows firsthand that every moment might be the last. And Eren knows too because he can barely remember his mother’s smile anymore and he often finds himself only wishing for a little more time.

Sure, he loves Mikasa. And sure, maybe she loves him, but it’s difficult to be in the same room as her sometimes, and it’s even harder to explain why. His head hurts just thinking about it, so he stops.

He hates how mopey he’s being too, so he tries for a smile, focusing on Levi instead of thinking of Mikasa.

“On a scale from one to ten, how good would you rate your haircut skills?” It’s a silly question, and Eren knows it, but he just wants to break the silence.

Playing along, Levi grins a little. “You’re not already getting cold feet, I hope.”

“Just curious.”

“I’d say a solid ten.”

Eren lets himself grin a little wider, and he remembers that Levi said he cuts his own hair. Levi has really nice hair. It falls over his face as gracefully as hair can fall, and the undercut’s a little bit hot. But just a little.

“Then I trust you to give me a good haircut.”

Levi nods once, and now that Eren’s started, he can’t seem to stop staring at Levi’s hair. So dark that it can’t possibly be natural, and so silky that Eren almost wants to ask what shampoo and conditioner Levi uses. He refrains though. Mostly because it’s stupid, and partly because he just can’t work up the courage to.

The silence, for the rest of the way, is only broken by small talk and light conversations that Eren tries his best to pay attention to. But really, he’s so absorbed in Levi’s low, rumbling voice that he can’t seem to focus on the words. It’s normal, Eren supposes, that he’s gotten attached to Levi so quickly. After all, Levi’s kind of his hero. But he hates how much he’s doubting himself because what if his admiration for Levi is based solely on hero worship?

But no. He looks at Levi again, and Levi is honestly stunning and hilarious, and maybe a little bit crude. And sure, he’s not them most charming person Eren’s met, but Eren likes how Levi can switch from elegant talk to thug speech in the snap of a finger. Eren likes Levi, and it’s confusing, and maybe a little scary, but he likes their friendship. He just wishes that he was less reluctant. It’s hard for Eren to make friends. It’s always been hard for Eren to make friends, but he’s making an effort, and that definitely counts for something.

“Stop staring and get out,” Levi says, pulling up to his driveway. The house, although Eren’s only really seen it once, is somehow familiar, and he can’t help but smile widely as he steps out of the car into in the frigid air.

“Thank you for driving us,” Eren replies, and Levi looks at him, tilting his head.

“No problem.”

They walk inside, and Eren remembers to wipe his shoes, and he tries to remember to be happy because it’s not often that he feels so at ease.

With Levi, he feels at ease. But that’s probably because Levi’s already seen him at his worse.

“I feel like this is a lame attempt at hanging out,” Levi says apologetically as he leads Eren into the house, “Sorry.”

Stunned, Eren shakes his head as he follows Levi into the bathroom. “No, I don’t mind at all,” Eren says, and he doesn’t. He really doesn’t care what they’re doing because it’s not often he socializes at all, and anything honestly seems better than his regular like at home.

“Sit here,” Levi points to a plastic chair in front of the mirror, and Eren complies, plopping down ungracefully. He’s already exhausted physically, and he can only hope that mental exhaustion isn’t soon to follow. He genuinely, genuinely wants to have a good time, and he doesn’t want his bad thoughts to mess it up.

If he could talk to his thoughts he would probably be telling them to _fuck off._

Opening the drawer, Levi takes out a comb, some hairclips, and some sharp scissors. “I’m not a professional,” he warns, but Eren only shrugs. It seems pretty professional to him, and he doesn’t even have to spend any money. But if Eren’s being honest, his goal isn’t even to get a good haircut. He’s really just here to get to know Levi better.

As Levi begins to brush his hair, Eren leans back a little, shivering at the gentle touch. It’s cold where the comb touches his scalp, but not unpleasant. He takes his calm mindset so ask a question. “How’d you get so good at cutting hair?”

Eren watches at Levi blinks once, looking a little tense. His actions continue without falter, but Eren still feels as if he’s crossed a line. “You don’t have to answer,” he adds quickly because it’s quite obvious that the question made Levi uncomfortable.

“No, no,” Levi reassures, shaking the tension from his shoulders. “It’s nothing terrible or anything. I just didn’t grow up with enough money for hairdressers and shit, so my mom cut my hair. And when she died, I learned to cut my own hair. And then when I met Isabelle, I started cutting her hair too.” He smiles fondly, and Eren can’t help but find the smile beautiful and tragic all at once.

“Do you miss them—Isabelle and Farlan?” He knows, if Hanji’s pestering is anything to go by, that Levi doesn’t like talking about Isabelle and Farlan. But he also knows from Hanji’s persistence that bottling it up is definitely not the way to go.

Sighing deeply, Levi snips the scissors through the brief moment of silence. “Yeah,” he admits, mouth twisting into a deep from.

Eren feels bad, but he also doesn’t regret the question. He wants to know more about Levi, and if he has to dig a little deep, he’ll do it. But there’s also the fact that the frown, although not uncommon, should not have a home on Levi’s face.

He really just wants to get rid of that frown. But then he wonders if that’s what the people who hang out with him feel like. After all, Eren frowns all the time, so it’s hypocritical of him to hate Levi’s frown. But then Eren wonders if people care enough about him to feel bad when he frowns. Probably not.

“I miss my mom,” Eren says quietly once Levi begins to trim the tips of his hair.

“You don’t have to tell me this.”

“No, it’s fair,” Eren insists. “I pushed you, so I have to push myself.”

Levi sighs again, putting a hand on Eren’s shoulder. “I don’t want this to seem like a trade-off. You can tell me about it when you’re comfortable. After all, I wasn’t obligated to answer you.”

“I want to tell you,” Eren states firmly, and Levi withdraws his hand a little, nodding.

Eren stares at himself in the mirror, not able to meet Levi’s eyes anymore, and he starts. “I sometimes find myself forgetting her. Like, I can’t remember the exact shade of here yes anymore, or how warm her smile was. I can’t even remember what her voice sounds like when she’s laughing anymore. I think I can only remember her voice when she’s yelling now.” He takes a deep breath, and he knows that Levi’s listening, and that reassures him enough for him to continue. “I’m scared that I’ll wake up one day and not be able to picture her at all.”

There’s a bit of a silence after that, and Eren’s about to continue when Levi starts to talk. “I feel the same way,” he says, loud enough for Eren to hear, but still not loud at all. “Not about my mother, because I don’t remember her at all, but about Isabelle and Farlan.” At his, Eren raises his head a little, and their eyes meet in the mirror, teal on gray, and a mixture of feelings swirl up in the pit of Eren’s stomach. “I know that Isabelle had hair redder than the fucking sunset, and that Farlan’s hair was blond,” Levi continues, scissors suddenly sounding much louder than before as he snips away, the hair tickling Eren’s neck as it falls to the ground in swirls. “But I can’t really remember how dark of a red or how dirty of a blond it was anymore.” He stops again, and Eren takes note that Levi’s voice is completely even the entire time he talks, and he wonders if maybe Hanji’s wrong. If maybe Levi’s moved on more than the psychologist thinks. “But I’m glad for the time I got with them,” Levi finishes.

Eren, surprising both Levi and himself, feels tears slowly fall down his cheek. He sniffles, and he knows why he’s crying, but it’s so stupid that even he can’t believe it.

“Oi, Eren,” Levi says. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m sorry,” Eren hiccups, and he can’t seem to stop the several new tears that drip from his eyes all the way down his chin and to the floor. “It’s just the way you worded it. I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“Shit, kid. If I knew that you were going to react that way, I wouldn’t have said anything at all.”

“No, no, it’s not your fault. I just,” Eren wipes angrily at his eyes, “Sorry. It’s not really sad tears, so don’t worry.”

His hair continues to fall, and Levi doesn’t say anything for a while, but Eren doesn’t mind the silence that much. It gives him time to calm himself, and to feel more stupid, but that’s nothing new. He rolls his sleeves up, not wanting to get snot all over them, and he’s about to turn to Levi to ask for tissues when he hears Levi’s breath hitch.

Suddenly, a hand grabs Eren’s wrist that’s still busy wiping his eyes, and he freezes in surprise.

“Wha—” he starts, but Levi cuts him off.

“What the fuck’s on your arms?” Levi demands, voice shaking. Voice shaking in a way that Eren’s never heard.

Eren shivers, feeling a horrible panic creeping up his spine as he realizes what’s happening. He thought that he knew terror before, but this is real terror. This is his shame, his pride, his worst nightmare. On his arm, he bears everything he wants to hide, and Levi is holding it. Levi is holding his arm so tightly that it’s practically gone numb, and the washroom suddenly feels ten times smaller. Ten times more hard to be in.

He tries to keep himself controlled, and he forces out a tight, trembling laugh. “Oh, this? It’s nothing,” he gestures with his free arm, trying to come up with something believable. How does he describe the swelling marks on his arm that he violently inflicted with a rubber band of all things? How is he supposed to explain the broken skin and old scabs? How is he supposed to explain this without making a fool of himself? He sounds strangled when he says, “I fell out of a tree.”

Levi’s grip tightens even further, and Eren barely suppresses his wince. Of course Levi doesn’t believe him; only a fool would.

“Please…let go,” Eren says, trying his best not to bolt. He’s itching to jump out and make a run for it, and maybe never show his face again. “You’re hurting me,” he breathes, sounding as choked as he feels.

He’s so angry with himself for being careless. He’s so angry with himself for hurting himself in the first place.

“Did you do this to yourself?”

Eren’s world tilts and spins as his chest tightens, and it should be an easy yes or no question. It should be, but he can’t answer. Maybe he should nod, but what then? What will Levi do? Will Levi try to help him? Will he turn away? Eren’s not even sure which one’s worse and which one’s better.

His chest tightens further, and he suddenly can’t hear anymore because his ears are _buzzing buzzing buzzing._ So loud that he wants to cover them. So loud that the room quakes and—oh god.

It would be really embarrassing if he passed out now.

Letting out a sound of distress, Eren draws in a breath, desperately trying to calm himself because he really doesn’t want to pass out in front of Levi. He really just doesn’t want to pass out at all. But his lungs squeeze again and his oxygen escapes and _oh no_. _Oh fuck._

Inhale. Exhale.

_Breathe. Please, just breathe._

_“Breathe, Eren,”_ he can vaguely make out Levi saying.

_I’m trying!_ Eren wants to reply, but he’s scared that he’ll throw up if he opens his mouth.

Inhale. Exhale.

A hand on his shoulder to steady him. A hand brushing his sweaty bangs from his face. A hand that’s soothing but also annoying and _don’t touch me. Please don’t touch me. Just give me space. Too hot, too hot, too hot—_

His ears are ringing, and his hands are shaking, and he squeezes his eyes shut because he can’t see anything anyway except for blobs of colour.

Something wet slides down his cheeks.

Tears.

Inhale. Exhale.

Just—

Inhale. Exhale.

Please—

Inhale. Exhale.

Breathe—

Inhale, exhale.

Faster—

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale—

Not Enough—

Inhaleexhaleinhaleexhale—

Stop—

Inhaleexhaleinhaleexhaleinhaleexhaleinhaleexhaleinhale—


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a hell of a long time. Sorry! I have the flu right now and school's been quite brutal, so I haven't had time to write. Here's a short chappy. I'll get something longer up next time, promise.

Eren opens his eyes to see Levi sitting next to him while talking to someone over the phone. “—passed out. I don’t know. Should I call the emergency number?”

Struggling, Eren tries to sit up, but his stomach lurches. “Levi,” he says, glad that he doesn’t sound as breathless as he feels. “I’m fine.”

Levi sets a hand on his shoulder, holding him down, and Eren’s suddenly aware that he’s on his side. Probably so that he won’t choke on his vomit if he decides to upchuck. 

Turning to Eren, Levi asks, “Do you have asthma?”

“No.” His mouth feels too dry. “Can I get some water?”

It turns out that Levi thought ahead because there’s a glass of water a couple meters away that Levi brings over. It even has a straw that Levi carefully inserts into Eren’s mouth, and Eren sucks greedily, feeling his throat sooth immediately. “Thanks.”

“He doesn’t have asthma,” Levi says into the phone, still holding the straw for Eren.

“It was a panic attack,” Eren says, finally sitting up once he’s sure his stomach is stable. He’s not too lightheaded, and his chest doesn’t hurt too much, so he’s pretty sure that it wasn’t too terrible. Bad, but not terrible.

“He says it was a panic attack,” Levi tells the person on the other line, listening for a second before turning back to Eren and asking, “How often do you get them?”

Eren shrugs. “Pretty often. And who are you talking to?”

“It’s Hanji.”

“Hi, Eren,” Hanji yells through the phone, loud enough for Eren to hear and for Levi to scowl. Levi passes the phone to Eren just as Hanji asks, “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Eren responds, but then he realizes that he might sound a little rude with his curt answers so he adds on a, “Much better than before.”

“That’s good,” Hanji hums. “Levi says out were out for a couple of minutes. Do you always pass out from panic attacks?”

“Only the relatively bad ones, and never for more than a couple minutes. Sometimes I just black out for a couple of seconds.”

“Do you hyperventilate when you panic? Because that could definitely be a reason why.”

“Do you know anyone who doesn’t?”

Hanji hums again. “You would be surprised at how differently different people handle panic.”

“I think my body just conks me up when it doesn’t want to deal with my shit anymore.” The humour ends up a little dry, but both Hanji and Levi seem to appreciate the effort anyway. Levi cracks a small smile and Hanji lets out a soft laugh.

“It could be that; your body shuts down to give you time to calm down. Or it could be that you’re not getting enough oxygen so you black out. In your case, it’s probably both. Have you ever taken medication?”

“No.”

“Have you thought about it? It might help.”

“I would rather not.”

“That’s fine.”

“Can I give the phone to Levi now?”  Eren feels bad for cutting the conversation short, but he’s exhausted and he really doesn’t have the energy to even bother keeping up with Hanji.

Thankfully, Hanji doesn’t take offence and immediately answers with, “Of course!”

Eren passes the phone to Levi, standing up and stretching as he blinks the spots out of vision, and he hears Levi bid Hanji goodbye and hang up.

“Fuck, you gave me a scare,” Levi admits after a second of silence, and Eren looks down at the hair on the floor, holding tightly to the counter. Thankfully, Levi moved Eren out of the pile of his own hair when he was passed out, so he’s not covered in it.

“Are you going to finish the haircut?” _I’m sorry for ruining today._

Levi frowns. “Are you going to talk about the marks on your arm? I won’t push it if you really don’t want to talk about, but fuck. If you’re hurting yourself, just—fuck. Fuck, I don’t even know what to say.” He rubs his temples, looking as tired as Eren feels. “I just, I hate the idea of anyone hurting themselves. It—god.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it right now,” Eren says quietly, sitting back onto the chair he was sitting out before he passed out.

He watches as Levi shuts his eyes and opens them. “Fine. That’s fine, but try to talk to someone about it, alright? I’ll drop it for now, but I’m not going to let you leave without knowing if you’re okay. I—shit. I was really fucking scared. I was sure you were dead for something for a second, and I had no idea what to do.”

“Sorry,” Eren mumbles, and he’s never felt worse. He hates worrying people. He hates worrying Levi. Levi. “I’m sorry. I won’t hurt myself anymore.”

“That’s bull and you know it.”

“I’ll try,” Eren amends, and that seems to be enough for now because Levi picks the scissors up from the counters and snips at Eren’s hair silently.

“I’m meeting up with Hanji next week,” Eren finally says once the silence gets too thick.

“I know. I’m glad.” Levi sounds genuine enough, and Eren allows himself a smile, even going as far as to meet Levi’s eyes in the mirror.

The gray stares back, and Eren finds that he can’t look away.

Levi isn’t as cold as he sometimes pretends to be. Not by a long shot.

* * *

 

The hair is finally cleaned from the washroom floor, and Levi tosses his gloves into the trash, washing his hands thoroughly before going over to the couch where Eren’s sitting.

Eren sips at his iced water which he requested earlier, looking tired, but also good. The haircut suits him, and Levi thinks that he did a good job.

“You feeling better?” Levi asks, and Eren looks up, blinking.

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“You’ve been saying that for the past twenty minutes. It’s fine. You’re fine.”

“I know you’re worried.”

Levi shrugs. “You worry me.” And it’s true. Levi doesn’t get close to many people, but once he does, he tends to worry. And Eren probably worries him the most. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to ignore the marks on Eren’s arms now that he’s seen them.

Eren doesn’t want to talk about them just yet, and that’s fine, but Levi hate the idea of Eren hurting himself. He hates the idea so much that he wants to grab Eren and shake some sense into him. He wants to scream and the younger boy’s face and ask, _“Why?”_ Only, it’s not hard to see why.

Eren’s depressed.

Eren’s suicidal.

Eren’s going through a shit point in his life and Levi’s shit with people and even shittier with sad people. He doesn’t get self-harm. He doesn’t think he ever will. He doesn’t understand how Eren hurting himself helps, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever understand. Really, he can only hope that Eren will talk to Hanji about it. Hanji will probably help. Levi can only hope that Hanji will help.

“Sit with me,” Eren says, although it comes out more like a question. Levi sits, close enough to touch Eren, but also far enough to give him some space. “Thanks for the haircut. It looks good.” Eren blushes pink.

“Of course it looks good,” Levi scoffs, and he’s glad when Eren laughs, loud enough to fill in the silence.

“My hair was really starting to bother me. I like it short like this.” He runs his ringers down his fringe as he turns to face Levi, eyes so sincere and so bright that Levi probably would’ve never guessed that Eren just had a panic attack. Never would’ve guessed that the boy with the green, _green_ eyes hurts himself when no one’s looking.

_Don’t let him deceive you into thinking he’s actually happy._

“It looked like a rat’s nest before. It’s much better out of your face like this. You can show off your giant fucking eyes now.”

Levi gets a smile in response, looking so painfully forced that he nearly winces in sympathy. He knows what Eren’s trying to do. He knows that Eren’s trying to throw him off his trail, but what has been seen can never be unseen.

_Red marks, up and down Eren’s visible arms, swelling and crisscrossing. Some scabbing, others angry. Horrifying to look at for so many different reasons._

_Bruises. Some dark and new, others yellow and old. Blending with his skin like watercolour on paper, bleeding in like wet pen marks._

_Eren, falling of the chair, hyperventilating as his eyes roll back, breathing and breathing but not drawing any breath._

_Levi, reaching forward to catch him, dropping the scissors onto the counter with a loud clatter, trying not to panic as well because Eren’s not moving. Eren’s not moving, and, oh god—is he dead?_

_Levi, moving Eren onto his side into recovery position, something he’s learned many years ago. Calling Hanji, eyes narrowed because it’s easier to look angry than to look scared, and Hanji picking up after seven rings, listening to Levi, providing comfort, the calm in the mist of chaos._

_Twenty seconds, thirty seconds, a minute turning into two, and Eren waking up, groggy and disoriented, trying to sit up only to lay back down._

_Eren, pretending to be fine_

_Eren, telling Levi to drop it. To stop asking about his arms. To stop caring, and caring, and_ how is Levi supposed to stop caring? He stared caring the moment he dragged Eren off the bridge. The moment he brought Eren home, and Eren cried to him about his dad and his sister and how life is falling apart. And somehow, in a short amount of time, they became friends. And now Levi can’t let go.

Levi, who hasn’t made a single new friend for over a decade.

He looks at Eren, and he really looks this time, and he notices the freckles on Eren’s cheeks, barely visible from afar. He notices how long Eren’s lashes are, and how they sweep over his cheeks. High cheekbones, pretty lips, shapely brows. Eren’s beautiful—

— _and I sound like a fucking pedophile._

Levi can’t—this is—fuck—

He swallows hard, not that it does anything for the lump in his throat, and tears his gaze away from Eren. “I need to—” he gestures to the kitchen, “tea.”

It’s a shitty explanation, but Levi doesn’t know what to do. He knows Eren’s nice and attractive and all that. But he also knows that Eren’s damaged, and damaged people like comfort. He feels bad for thinking about Eren like that—damaged. But his thoughts are the opposite of eloquent and he doesn’t have to energy to come up with something better.

Eren’s an adult, right? Did he ever ask for Eren’s age?

“Hey, Eren,” Levi starts, already half way off the couch. He sits back down, and he knows he has Eren’s attention.

“Yeah?” Eren’s still looking at Levi, and Levi’s pretty sure that he’s never stopped. His eyes, following Levi’s movements, looking into Levi like no one’s ever looked into him before. It’s difficult to try and talk to Eren when Eren won’t tell him what’s wrong.

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

The sadness is immediate because _he’s only 19. He’s only 19 and he tried to jump off a bridge._ Levi already know that Eren was young. He has a young face and a young build, but it’s still sad to hear it.

_Legal though,_ his brain chimes in, and Levi almost grimaces because that thought was definitely not appropriate for the situation, or appropriate for any situation at all.

Eren looks exhausted again, as if laughing has sapped his strength, and Levi itches to bring up the marks on his arms again. He itches to make Eren, to force Eren, to talk about it, but he stops himself.

_Leave that for Hanji._

It doesn’t escape him how Eren shuffles closer, putting the glass of water down. “Weren’t you going to go make tea or something?”

“I changed my mind.”

“I had a good time today. I’m sorry for kind of ruining it though.”

“You said sorry again.”

“I can’t help it.”

Levi ruffles Eren’s head a bit, and Eren leans into the touch. He leans, and Levi likes it, and it scares him that he likes it because it all feels a bit too soon. And apparently Eren thinks so too because he suddenly moves a bit further away once he realizes what he’s doing. Levi can’t really blame him, so he tries not to feel too offended. He has no business feeling offended for something like this.

“You don’t control everything that happens, so it’s not your fault. You can’t control when you’ll have a panic attack. You can’t control how you’ll feel. Emotions happens whether you want them to or not. Besides,” Levi admits, “I kind of triggered it.”

“Let’s not talk about that,” Eren says, tensing up, and Levi lets it drop because he can tell how close Eren is to snapping.

He notices Eren’s mood swings, but he also knows that depression kind of messes with the brain, so he can’t fault Eren for it. Not really.

_Hanji, please help this kid because I have no idea how._

Hanji’s a professional, and Levi’s not. He tries his best to be honest, and to say what he genuinely believes to be true, but sometimes the words that leaves his mouth aren’t the words others want to hear.

Eren moves back closer to Levi, and Levi has to close his eyes for a second. Apparently, Eren really can’t make his mind whether he wants to be close to Levi or not.

Levi lets him move closer, and even goes as far as to rest a hand on his thigh. It feels right to have his hand there, but his head is screaming _wrong._ “Do you want to watch a movie?” he asks instead of tearing his hand away like he has half the mind to do. _This is wrong._

“That’s a good idea.” Eren’s gone a little quiet again, and Levi frowns but doesn’t say anything else, reaching for the remote to turn the TV on.

“I have a couple of DVDs. We can choose something together.”

Levi gets off the couch for a second and brings over the box of DVDs, letting Eren shuffle through them. He sits back on the couch, getting comfortable, and his hand resumes its place on Eren’s leg. Eren doesn’t seem to mind, so Levi keeps his hand there, trying not to feel like a creep and instead just enjoy spending time with Eren. _This is wrong._

“Can we watch this?” Eren holds up season seven of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Levi raises as eyebrow, taking it the 6-disc set from Eren’s hand.

“This isn’t a movie.”

“It’s not,” Eren agrees. “it’s old-school and I miss it. The last time I watched it, it was still airing on TV. There’s this one episode that’s really feel good and everyone has sex and Buffy and Spike talk it out and it’s cute.”

Levi vaguely remembers that episode, but he has no idea what the exact episode number is. Turns out he doesn’t have to worry because Eren gets up and puts the supposedly right disc in, going back to the couch, only this time lying down. He lays his head on Levi’s lap, and Levi can’t help but to run his hand through Eren’s hair, navigating the TV with the other.

His hair is soft and silky, and Levi doesn’t think he’ll mind if he has to touch it forever. It’s nice to just relax with Eren, watching TV shows from the 1990s and trying not to think about the negatives. It’s easy to forget that not everything’s fine when Eren’s being so damn snuggly.

Eren lets Levi stroke his hair, and Levi doesn’t know how to feel about that. He doesn’t know how to feel about anything. He’s so out of his area of expertise, but he likes it so much. _This is wrong._

And Eren’s blushing all the way up to his ears. Levi can tell, and Levi doesn’t know why it’s so endearing. He doesn’t know why Eren wants to be close to him. He doesn’t even know where this attraction comes from.

_You’re going to hurt him. You’re going to get hurt_. He’s so fucked and Eren’s so fucked up and everything’s going to go to shit. But then there’s Eren, pressing into his lap, and Eren, commenting lightly on what they’re watching, and Eren, making Levi’s heart do flips in his old ass chest in a way that he’s never felt before.

And fuck—

This is wrong,

But it feels so right.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I'm doing NaNoWriMo this month so updates will probably come faster.  
> This is a very dialogue-heavy chapter.
> 
> Trigger warning for mentions of self-harm and the usual depressing shit.

“Hey, how’s school?”

“Good.”

“How’s Jean?”

“He’s really sweet.”

“How’s the job hunting?”

“I’ve printed out a stack of resumes.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah…hey, Eren?”

“…Yeah?”

“Will we ever get back to the way we used to be?”

“…”

“…”

“…I dunno. It’s strange, the way we are now. It’s not the same anymore. I don’t think it’s possible for it to ever be the same again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s my fault too.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“I know.”

“Eren—“

“Listen, Mikasa, I’m at Levi’s house right now. I have to go.”

“Levi? Who’s Levi?”

“I’ll introduce you sometime, I guess. I have to—“

“Wait, Eren!”

“I’ll talk to you soon, alright?”

“…Alright.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Mikasa stares at the phone, and stares at her lap, and back at her phone again. She fucked it up. She fucked it up by pretending and she tried to fix it by pretending and now it’s going to be a hell lot of work to make it alright again. She stares at the bottle of pills—half empty—on her desk, next to her printed resumes, and she listens as her roommates bumble about through the thin walls.

“Babe, you alright?”

Mikasa turns to face Jean, nodding as a small smile stretches across her lips. “I will be. There are just some things I need to fix.”

“Is this about your brother?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a bitter tone in Jean’s voice every time he talks about Eren, and it bothers Mikasa a little, but she can’t really be bothered to point it out because maybe she’s just making things up.

“Come sit next to me.” Mikasa pats the area next to her on her bed, and Jean scoots closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. It’s nice to have someone hold her once in a while, even if she’s not the most sentimental person.

She just hopes that Eren’s found a person who he can trust as well.

* * *

 

It’s already been six days since Eren’s last seen Levi, and they’ve been surprisingly good at keeping in touch. Eren texts Levi a lot, and sometimes they call once Eren gets back from work. Levi doesn’t really ask about his job (Eren’s a waiter at a restaurant/Creamery. He also scoops ice cream!), but Eren talks about it sometimes anyway. He talks about asshole coworkers, and sometimes he even talks about his sister.

Levi talks about how annoying Hanji and Erwin are, and how he wishes he had friends who pestered him less, and also about his students (he’s a college professor!). It’s always exciting to learn new things about Levi because he doesn’t really like to talk about himself. But Eren doesn’t mind it. He likes pointless conversations with Levi. It’s cathartic in a way.

“Wanna meet up again?” Eren finally works up the courage to ask during one of their phone calls throughout the week.

“Sure. Call me if you want to arrange something, or text me, or whatever.”

It’s easy to talk to Levi, and it’s easy to hang out with Levi, and everything about Levi just puts Eren at ease. Eren thinks it’s because—

The knocking at his door cuts off his thought process, and Eren breathes in deeply. He knows it’s Hanji at the door, and he knows it’s for his appointment, but he can’t help but get a little nervous. He flexes and clenches his hands, trying to unfreeze them as he opens the door, and he mentally braces himself for a terrifying afternoon.

“Hey, cutie,” Hanji beams, looking much more professional than Eren’s ever seen them. Hanji’s in a button down with black pants, and they’re carrying a purse so big that Eren didn’t even know purses were made in that size.

“Hey,” Eren greets them, trying to keep the stutter out of his voice. This is also new. Everything about the past several weeks has been new. “Come in.”

Hanji waltzes in, taking off their shoes by the door as Eren gets some slippers. His hands are shaking, and he has to remind himself to keep them steady. He has to remind himself that Hanji’s not a stranger, and that there’s nothing to be nervous about.

“Where should we proceed?” Hanji asks once the slippers are on.

Eren nods to the couch, making his way over, and Hanji follows him. They sit down next to Eren, but a comfortable space is left between them.

A cough disperses the momentary silence, and Eren awkwardly clears his throat. “How do I start,” Eren says at the same time Hanji says, “So, what’s been happening?”

They both pause, and Hanji laughs loudly. “Sorry, sorry,” they huff. “You go.”

“No, it’s fine.” Eren shakes his head. “I don’t know how to start anyway.”

Hanji hums, tilting their head. They seem to be thinking of something, but Eren’s not entirely sure what. “Anywhere is fine,” Hanji smiles warmly. “Tell me your favourite colour, for instance.”

Eren’s not really sure how this is relevant, but if he had to guess, he would think that it’s just to get him comfortable. “I dunno,” he shrugs. “It changes every day. I guess it depends on my mood.”

“Favourite food?”

“I’m not much of a foodie.”

“That’s fine. What did you have for dinner last night?”

Eren pauses to think. “Pasta? I think?”

Frowning, Hanji writes something down. “Do you not remember?”

“I don’t remember if I ate.”

Hanji’s frown deepens. “Do you skip meals often?”

Eren’s torn between telling the truth and telling a lie because the truth will certainly lead to some problems. But this is a therapy session for a reason, and he knows he won’t get anywhere with lies, so he mutters, “I guess. But I’m trying to fix it.”

Something else is written down, and Hanji sighs a little. “This isn’t entirely unordinary. Often, depression either increases appetite or decreases appetite. In your case, your appetite probably decreased.”

Fiddling with his fingers and avoiding Hanji’s eyes, Eren shrugs again. He’s not really sure what he’s supposed to be doing. It’s not really awkward anymore not that the session’s started, but it’s still nerve-wracking.

“How do I fix it?” He asks more for Mikasa than himself because he knows that Mikasa hates it when he skips meals. _Not that she has much of a say in what he does with my life anyway_ , he thinks bitterly before quickly tossing the thought away. It’s not entirely fair because she’s really trying.

“We need to target the root problem, which is your depression.”

“How do I do that?”

Hanji smiles, and they look almost proud before shifting into a more serious mood. “Eren, I’m going to ask you a very important question, and it’s imperative that you answer honestly. I won’t be able to help you if you don’t.”  Eren nods to show that he understands, and Hanji continues. “Do you want to get better?” Hanji asks. “Are you willing to work and fight for it?”

Eren opens his mouth to answer before immediately shutting it. It’s easy to say yes, but it’s harder to actually mean it. And Eren wants to mean it. He wants to give an honest answer, so he thinks on it. Does it want to get better? Of course, right? Who likes being sad, empty, constantly falling apart? _But I deserve it, don’t I? Who will I become if I let the sadness go?_ And then there’s the parts where he hurts himself, and does he really want to stop? He likes the sting on his skin. He likes watching the layers of skin break and bleed and scab and swell. He likes hurting himself because it feels like he’s accomplishing something, whatever that is.

But then there’s the other side. The side where being sad sucks big time, and hiding his arms and legs and everything is exhausting. And the part where numbness is constant and maybe he just wants to feel happy for once. There’s the side where Levi’s concerned, and Hanji’s concerned, and Mikasa’s concerned. There’s the part where maybe it’s better to live after all.

Really, the hidden question being asked, maybe even without Hanji knowing it, is, _“Do you still want to die?”_

Eren thinks of Levi, and his eyes, and hair, and smile. Eren thinks of Levi’s panicked concern, and also his annoyance on the bridge that night. Eren thinks of the icy water, moving so slowly, so calmly. He pictures his body floating, bloated blue and dead. He thinks of Levi being a second too late and having to watch a boy jump to his death. He pictures someone delivering the news to Mikasa. He pictures Armin coming home from his trip to find out that his friend is dead. At least there’ll be no more lonely apartments. No more anything at all.

Eren thinks that Hanji probably knows how he and Levi met. Maybe Levi told Hanji, or maybe they figured it out themself. But they know. Eren can tell by the way they look at him, with so much sympathy it hurts. They probably don’t even know they’re doing it, but Eren sees it.

“I want to get better,” Eren finally decides, and it’s firm and raw. His emotions, all piled up in five words.  It’s the bravest thing he’s done in a long time.

* * *

 

“How did it go?” Levi asks, and Eren shrugs even though Levi can’t see it through the phone.

“It went pretty good. I mean, we didn’t really talk about anything important, but it was cathartic.”

“Hanji wasn’t being fucking annoying like usual?”

Eren titters a little, smiling softly to himself. “No.” He thinks for a second. “Maybe. It think I’ve gotten used to Hanji by now.”

There’s a snort from the phone. “Impossible. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Sighing wistfully, Eren ties an apron around his waist and opens the fridge, putting the phone on speaker. “We should all meet up again.”

“Yeah, but our schedules don’t really join up so well. We all work on the weekdays, and Hanji often works on the weekends because they’re fucking crazy and don’t know the definition of ‘taking it easy’.”

Eren already knows all this, but it sucks to hear Levi say it anyway. “I miss you,” he blurts out before thinking, and he almost doesn’t regret it. After all, it’s true.

There’s a moment of silence before Levi says, “Are you sure you don’t just miss my shit jokes?” And then, “I miss you too.”

It’s awkward, and it’s obvious that Levi has trouble spitting it out, but it’s still the sweetest thing Eren’s heard all day. He’s sure that if he could see himself, his face would be pink.

“What are you doing right now?” Levi asks.

“Making dinner.”

“Are you actually going to eat it?”

Eren stares at the stuff in the fridge, and feels the hunger gnawing at his stomach, and says, “Yeah. I think so.”

There’s something akin to a sigh of relief from Levi, and his concern is touching. It’s different having someone constantly look out for Eren, but he finds that he doesn’t mind it at all. Especially not if it’s Levi.

“What are you making?” Eren doesn’t know how he does it, but Levi sounds genuinely curious, as if listening to a kid talking about food is interesting. Eren doesn’t really get it. He doesn’t get what makes him so interesting, and why Levi hasn’t upped and left him yet. It would be easy to do. Eren wouldn’t really be surprised. Hurt, maybe. But he’s used to being hurt. He doesn’t really get why Levi sticks around, but he’s damn grateful.

“Probably stir-fry. I have a bunch of veggies that Mikasa stocked up before she left, and I’ve got some microwave rice.” Eren takes onions, mushrooms, tomatoes, cabbage, carrots, and broccoli from the fridge, nearly dropping the tomatoes in the process. It’s been a while since he cooked by himself, and his hands shake a little. He’s nervous, and he’s not sure why, but talking to Levi is distracting enough to calm him slightly. “What are you doing right now?”

“Marking papers.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. Most of them are okay, and some are quite good, but there are always the few that don’t make sense at all.”

“Sorry you have to go through that,” Eren sympathizes, trying to real in the ugly envy of not even getting to go to university. He wants to go so bad. He wants to finish his education and get a stable job, but he’s stuck juggling strange shifts in crappy places because of his diploma-less ass.

“It’s rewarding, so I don’t really mind.” A groan, and then, “But I’m fucking exhausted, so I think I’ll go make dinner.”

“We can cook together,” Eren suggests. “Through the phone, that is.”

“Sure. Sounds better than cooking alone.”

Eren turns on the stove and starts boiling some water in the saucepan, cutting up the vegetables while he’s at it. He hums a tune, trying to block out the thoughts of _what if._

What if his mother never died?

What if his father never stopped being a father?

What if he had parents to support his education?

What if he went to university?

What if?

It’s painful to think about what could’ve been if he was someone different. If he was a different Eren with a different, better life. If he met Levi and Hanji based on better circumstances, and if he never wanted to die. If he never wanted to rip his skin off. If he was content with his life, with his situation, and with everything.

Content is not really a word that Eren understands because he hasn’t experienced it in so long.

“Want to know what I’m making?” Levi finally says after nearly five minutes of silence, and Eren realizes that his water is up to a rolling simmer and that tears have started to collect at the corners of his eyes. It’s as if Levi knows that Eren’s thinking too loud, and knows that it’s time to shut it off.

“Sure.” Eren tosses some salt into the water, then the small broccoli florets. He then starts to heat up some sunflower oil in a pan, trying to remember the process of making food.

“Curry.”

“Holy shit.” Eren hasn’t had curry in years. Not since his mom made it for him. It’s one of those things that he felt he never could make properly because it never tasted right. It’s almost nostalgic to the point to being painful.

A lot of things are painful, Eren has come to realize.

“Yeah,” Levi says, and he somehow sounds smug even through the phone. “Japanese curry, with the cubes from the Asian supermarket.”

“That’s my favourite kind of curry,” Eren admits like it’s a secret, even though it’s not. “I haven’t had it since my mom died.”

Levi hesitates for a second. “You can come over some time. I’ll make it for you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I—” Eren breathes, “Okay. Thanks.”

He drains the broccoli and sets it aside, tossing the sliced onion into the hot oil. It sizzles, and the aroma takes Eren back to a busy kitchen with bright lights and happy laughter.

“I’m putting the potatoes in,” Levi informs, and Eren’s more than happy to accept the form of distraction.

“I’m cooking the onions.”

“Did you cry when you were chopping them?”

“Yeah.” _But not because of the onions._

“Curry going in.”

“I’m putting the rice in the microwave now.” It’s bagged rice, and cheap as fuck. Eren likes it because it’s convenient and takes no time at all. He pops in the microwave and sets the time for two minutes, going back to the stove to toss the other veggies into the pan.

“How’s work going?”

“Pretty good. The restaurant has been surprisingly popular lately. I feel bad for the waiters.” Calling it a restaurant is a little generous. It’s only half of a restaurant. The other half is an ice cream shop, but whatever.

“You work the cash register on the ice cream side, right?”

“Yup. And I scoop the ice cream. That’s my favourite part.”

“I used to work at a convenience store back in high school?”

Eren feels his lips quirk up, trying to imagine Levi frowning behind a cash register and dealing with other teens. “And how did that go?”

“I messed it up all the fucking time. I sucked at counting money, basically. I swear I would’ve been fired if I didn’t quit.”

At that, Eren can’t help but laugh, now picturing Levi giving too much change. Or, more plausibly, too little. “My first job was at a shoe store.”

“Yeah?”

“The customers were terrible.” There was a lady who once threw a shoe box at Eren, but Levi doesn’t need to know that.

“I can only imagine. Feet. Gross.”

“Vegetables are done.”

“That was quick.”

“Stir-fry is quick. That’s why I made it.”

Levi laughs quietly, and Eren savours the sound seeing as it’s something he doesn’t nearly hear enough. “How’s the curry going?” He asks.

“Good. I might’ve added too many potatoes.”

“You can never have too many potatoes.”

“No,” Levi agrees. “I guess I’ll just have to live with it.”

Although it’s nice talking to Levi, Eren can’t help but want to physically be next to him. To see him, and touch him, and be held by him. It’s a fantasy that he can’t get out of his mind. And it’s not entirely unrealistic. It’s not like Levi’s never held Eren before. It’s not like they haven’t been in many intimate situations together. Because they have.

But Eren doesn’t know if Levi sees him like that, or if Levi just sees him as a kid. A kid who needs saving.

A bowl is filled with the vegetables now, and the rice is done, but the hunger is long gone, replaced by the numb emptiness.

“I’m not really hungry anymore,” Eren says quietly, and he can’t possibly fathom how his emotions changed so quickly.

“You have to eat,” Levi says, although it sounds more like an order. “You said you would eat it, remember?”

“I know,” Eren swallows, sitting at the table with the food. He takes a bite. It tastes pretty good.

“What happened? You were fine a second ago.”

Eren shrugs, forgetting that Levi can’t see. “I dunno. Sometimes I just get in a funk. Don’t bother with it.”

“Stop it,” Levi snaps, and Eren pretends that he doesn’t flinch. “I have to bother with you. You worry me.”

“Sorry.”

“Stop.”

“Alright.”

Eren takes another bite, chewing and swallowing, letting the food slide down his throat as his pictures himself sliding down a slide. “I’m eating.”

“Good.” And then, “I’m free tomorrow. Are you?”

Eren thinks for a second, planning out his days in his head. “Yeah.”

“Let’s do something.”

“Okay.”

“Where do you want to go?”

Eren’s first thought is the beach because that’s where he used to go with Armin and Mikasa back when they were kids. But then he remembers that it’s winter and freezing, so he thinks of something else. “Movies?”

“Any movie you want to watch?”

“Not really.” He’s disappointed in himself for giving up on the idea so easily.

“Movies it is. I’ll search something up.”

“Huh?”

“We’ll go to the movies.”

“What—” Eren doesn’t get Levi at all. Sometimes he thinks he does, and then there are times like this where Levi persists, and Eren just doesn’t understand. Why is Levi trying so hard for Eren when he’s not trying at all? “O-okay.”

The stutter is frustrating and embarrassing, but Eren doesn’t think about it too hard. He mostly thinks about how Levi wants to see a movie with him, and how Levi’s trying to cheer Eren up. And it’s touching, and nice, and it makes Eren feel so much warmer than before.

 “Curry’s done,” Levi says, and Eren hears the sound of the fan above the stove being turned off, not even realizing that it was on until he can’t hear the sound anymore.

“Tell me how it tastes.” He tries his best to sound upbeat, and he knows he fails, but Levi smacks his lips anyway to humour Eren.

“It’s great. The potatoes weren’t a problem after all.”

“Told you.”

“Are you still eating?”

Eren takes another bite. “Yeah.”

“Do I have to remind you to eat until you finish the bowl?”

Eren’s barely made a dent so far, and he entertains the idea of Levi not hanging up until he’s done. “Yeah,” he says.

“Take another bite,” Levi orders.

Eren does as he’s told, chewing and savouring the flavor as best as he can. The broccoli is probably his favourite part.

 _“Like little trees,”_ his mother used to say, and Eren almost sobs when he hears her voice in his head.

“There’s a new Tom Hanks movie out.” Levi breaks the silence. “I heard one of my students talking about it.”

Stirring his food idly, Eren breathes. “That sounds nice.” He sounds a bit strangled, and he coughs to clear it up.

“Take another bite.”

A bite of rice goes in. “I’m full.”

“No you’re not.”

“I am.”

“Eat.”

“Alright.”

He eats.

Levi continues to talk, and Eren likes listening to his voice. Deep and calming, and always in control. He talks about little things, pausing once in a while to tell Eren to take a bite.

Eren takes a bite every time he’s told. Forcing himself to chew and swallow, even when his throat squeezes.

It takes what feels like forever. An hour. Maybe more. But eventually, slowly and surely, Eren’s bowl empties until there’s nothing left, and it’s just his fork hitting the bottom.

“I’m done.”

“You’re not lying, are you?”

“No. I promise I’m done.”

“Alright.”

“I’m sorry for taking up your dinner time.”

“Don’t be,” Levi says firmly. Eren can’t help but be sorry anyway.

“You ate, right?” The only way he’ll probably feel worse is if Levi spent so much time on Eren that he himself didn’t eat.

“I finished in the first ten minutes.”

“Promise?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

The sentence immediately sets Eren’s cheeks aflame, and he swallows. “Thank you.” And he means it. He’s so thankful. He’s so thankful that if he was any more thankful, he would have to build a temple for Levi and pray at it.

“Tomorrow,” Levi states.

“Yes.”

“I’ll come pick you up. We can get lunch, and then go to the movies. I’m sure that’s better than just going to my house and watching Buffy like last time.”

“Don’t forget the haircut and the panic attack,” Eren jokes drily.

“You scared me shitless.”

“I scared myself.”

“Let’s not have a repeat.”

“I’ll try to control the uncontrollable.”

He can almost feel Levi smile. At least he hopes Levi’s smiling because he has a beautiful smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Try and get some sleep.”

“Goodnight,” Eren says, and he waits for Levi to end the call because there’s no way he’s going to do it. Not when there’s a possibility he might cut Levi off.

But there’s really nothing left to say, and things that need to be said can wait until tomorrow, so Levi hangs up until all that’s left is the jarring _beep beep beep_ of his phone _._  

And Eren stands up, trying to ignore the sadness. Trying to ignore how nothing feels right, and how he really doesn’t want to be left alone. All he wants is someone to talk to so that he doesn’t have to think, but it’s too late and way too awkward to call Levi back. Way too late to do anything but wait for tomorrow, a day that can’t come fast enough.

 _Tomorrow. It’s not that far away,_ he placates himself, putting the dirty bowls in the sink.

It’s empty, and all Eren’s left with is a silent room and lots of dishes to do.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's shorter, but I'm drowning in school shit so here, have some unedited fluff.  
> TW for a tiny mention of self-harm at the beginning

Eren meets Levi outside, out the door the moment his phone rings. He’s nervous about lunch. Nervous that his nerves will make the food rise right back up, which is counterproductive so maybe he really shouldn’t be nervous at all.

“Get in. It’s fucking freezing,” Levi says from the driver’s seat, breathing onto his hands before rubbing them together.

“No, because it’s not winter or anything. I thought it was really hot out.”

Levi smiles slightly, and the loneliness is so easily forgotten that it’s like it was never there. Like it wasn’t so strong the night before that it was almost tangible. Like it wasn’t crushing.

“Your nose is all red. Better get in before you get hypothermia.

“Alright, mom.” He gets in the car, rolling up the window that Levi left down because Levi’s right and it’s cold as fuck. “What are we eating?”

“Thai food. Have you ever had any before?”

Eren thinks, but ultimately comes up with nothing. “I don’t think so. Is it good?”

“The best,” Levi says, already pulling onto the main road.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

It’s a sunny day, despite it being January, and Eren almost feels like a picnic would be appropriate. Except, sun doesn’t necessarily mean heat, and it’s definitely still below ten degrees Celsius. Cold enough for the navy blue cardigan and wool scarf Eren’s wearing.

He glances over at Levi, taking the opportunity to scan Levi’s body. But only to see what he’s wearing. Definitely not for any other reason.

Levi’s wearing an off-white jumper—probably the lightest colour Eren’s ever seen him wear—dark jeans, and a fitted, black jacket. No one should be able to look so good in something so simple.

“You look good,” Levi speaks up. “The cardigan is cute.”

Spluttering, Eren tries to reply with a thank you, but blurts out, “You look good too,” instead. How does that even happen? It’s like his mouth has a mind of his own reserved for making him look like a fool.

“Thank you,” Levi says, and he sounds genuine enough to put Eren at ease. “How are your arms?”

Eren swallows, not really up to reply but wanting to anyway. It’s Levi, the one who knows his mind better than anyone, after all. “Recovering. I haven’t…hurt…myself since we last saw each other.”

At this, Levi glances over at Eren for a second before looking back to the road. “You’re not lying, are you?”

“No,” Eren states firmly, and Levi nods. “How did the paper grading go?”

“I finished this morning.” Levi sighs, long and exaggerated. “They were…passible.”

“Work tomorrow?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Same.” Eren’s shoulders slump. “Sometimes I really just wish I could go the university.”

Levi frowns. “Why don’t you?”

“I’m paying for Mikasa.”

His frown deepens. “The system is corrupt, making teens pay tens of thousands for some fucking education.”

Eren nods in agreement. “I can barely afford to pay for her, even with her partial scholarship.”

“Did you try for a scholarship too?”

In embarrassment, Eren ducks his head, rather inclined not to remember his high school years. “Yeah. I’ve never really been academically smart though, so that didn’t work out. And well, dad doesn’t really…” Eren trails off, wondering how to continue, but Levi picks up the conversation instead.

“Your dad’s really a dick, huh.”

“You’re telling me. I haven’t heard from him in… a while.” Chest tightening, Eren turns in his seat so that Levi won’t see the tears he’s desperately blinking from his eyes. He doesn’t want to waste any more tears on his shitty ass father.

“I’m sorry for bringing it up.” Levi’s tone is rough, but Eren finds that the more often they spend time together, the looser Levi is. He’s less coiled, and his words come out less tense. It’s a good change.

“That’s alright.”

“You can cry.”

“I don’t want to waste any tears on him.”

There’s something akin to respect on Levi’s face once Eren finally looks, and it makes Eren glow. There’s not much in Eren’s life that he can really be proud of, but growing up with a shit dad and surviving. Yeah, he’s proud about that. He’s also proud of Mikasa because she seems to be doing well and getting back on track, and apparently she’s gotten a part time job at a bookstore. It’s fitting, considering her love of books.

“Sometimes I think I’m your only friend,” Levi says. “Do you have no one else to hang out with?”

Coming from anyone else, that might sound a bit mean. But coming from Levi, it just sounds like any other question. “My other friend is probably in China right now,” Eren snorts, “Or maybe Russia. Or maybe an obscure part of Europe that no one knows about. Last time I checked, he was in France, but he’s definitely not there anymore.”

“Traveler?”

“You bet.”

“No other friends?”

“Other than you and Hanji, not really. Armin’s a bit of a vagabond. I would love to travel with him, but money and all.”

Eren’s shoulders slump a little more, and he struggles to bring them back up. He misses Armin so much that it aches sometimes. As a childhood friend, they’ve never really spent much time apart until the past year.

“Does Armin go to university?”

“He went to the thing where they shorten the years of high school into like two years because he’s super smart. He just finished university I think. Honestly, no clue.”

Levi rolls his eyes. “You’re so caught up with your friends it’s astounding.”

“And your sarcasm is so dry that I can’t even tell when you’re being sarcastic.”

“Well obviously you can or else you wouldn’t have known that I was being sarcastic.”

“Point taken.”

Five minutes of small talk later, and Levi’s pulling into the parking lot. Eren might be a bit excited, and also a bit hungry, which is generally a foreign feeling to him because he rarely finds himself hungry. He considers this progress.

Levi, the gentleman he is, gets out of the car first and opens the door for Eren, and Eren might’ve blushed a little, but just a little.

“Thanks,” he mutters, and tries not to sound as flustered as he is. Levi only tilts his head, gesturing for Eren to come out.

The moment Eren steps out of the car, cold air engulfs him. He can feel the goosebumps rise on his skin, even under his cardigan, and he wonders if maybe he should’ve worn a jacket. He flexes his fingers slowly, and finds that his ears already ache from the cold. He can only picture how rosy his cheeks must be, and how red his nose is. Winter has never been his favourite season. It gets dark too early, and darkness has always been a dangerous time for Eren.

“You cold?” Levi asks, and although Eren opens his mouth to speak, his teeth are really chattering too hard so he sticks to nodding his head.

Levi closes the car doors, locking it, before taking off his jacket and wrapping it around Eren’s shoulders. The effect is instantaneous, but Eren reckons that the heat he feels is only half from the jacket. The other half is probably just Levi.

“We’re almost inside anyway,” he protests, but Levi simply waves him off.

“It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“I said it was fine, didn’t I?”

Eren struggles not to smile, mostly because he can tell that Levi’s flippantness is to ward off embarrassment. It’s sweet, and very touching, and it makes Eren snuggle into the jacket, bringing it up to his chin. He breathes in Levi’s scent and wonders why he likes the smell so much.

Continuing with his gentleman streak, Levi holds the restaurant door open for Eren, and Eren wonders is the Levi feels the fluttering in his stomach too. The shy butterflies. The small tingles. The kind that goes from the top of his head all the way down to his toes and fills him with warmth.

“Table for two,” Levi says, and the man at the front nods before smiling.

“Date?”

Eren frowns, wishing for a second that it was before shaking the thoughts from his head. He’s being ridiculous.

“We’re just friends,” Levi says before Eren can, and if Eren wonders if the longing in Levi’s voice is just his own hyperactive imagination.

Eren trails behind them until Levi pulls him closer, right up next to him. They’re lead to a table by the window with a nice view of the streets. It’s a pretty fancy restaurant, but the atmosphere remains friendly and warm. Taking off Levi jacket, Eren drapes it on the back of the chair and makes a mental reminder not to forget to take it once they leave.

The napkins are shaped like flowers on the plates, and Eren finds that he really loves the interior design from the golden lighting to the patterns on the walls.

He picks up the menu and scans it, but it’s hard to make a decision. Mostly because he’s never eaten Thai, and he scans the options over and over with no preference. “Can you order for the both of us?” He finally asks once he makes his fifth round through the menu.

“Sure. Any preference?”

“Surprise me.”

Levi quirks an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything else, setting down the menus and ordering for the both of them once the waiter comes around. Eren can’t understand Thai, which is what the dishes are written in, so he finds that even as Levi orders, Eren has no idea which dish he’s talking about.

“How are you?” Levi asks once the waiter leaves, and Eren takes a sip of the ice water provided.

“I’m okay,” he says before something strange compels him to be more honest. “I’m lonely.”

“Are you lonely right now?”

“No.” Eren smiles. “I’m with you, am I not?”

Levi doesn’t exactly smile back, but his expression becomes less troubled. “I’m glad.”

“What did you order?”

“You wanted it to be a surprise, no?”

Eren nods, suddenly nervous because he realizes that it’s just Levi and him at a nice table with a view of the street. And that Levi’s coat is presses against Eren’s back, and that this totally feels like a date. Even though it isn’t. Even though Eren wants it to be so bad it hurts even though he shouldn’t. It’s a type of longing that tugs at him, and he finds that the longer he looks at Levi, the stronger the tug becomes.

“It’s not super spicy, is it?” Eren asks, trying not to sound as breathless as he feels.

Levi smirks. “You had no preference when I asked.”

“I guess I’ll find out.”

“You will. It’s good. I promised you that it’ll be the best, did I not?”

“You did.”

“I’m a man of my word.”

Eren can’t seem to keep the smile off his face, and it must reflect back to Levi because Levi seems happier too. More relaxed. Less tense than usual.

“How’s teaching?”

“It’s alright. It’s busy now that school’s back in full swing. The kids are all lethargic from Christmas still, and I find that I really want to give out a project, but I’m scared of the results.”

“Just give it out anyway,” Eren shrugs. “If they work hard, it should be fine.”

Levi nods. “Oh, I’ll definitely give it out. Although, apparently rumor has it that I’m a particularly brutal marker.”

It’s strange, talking to an actual college professor even though Eren never attended a single college class. “You know the rumors about yourself?”

“Yup. Every teacher does.”

“That’s weird. I remember listening to the rumors of my old high school teachers. Some of them were brutal.”

“Teacher and professors aren’t idiots. We know what’s being said, and honestly, I don’t really care. It’s not like there isn’t a grain of truth behind it anyway.”

“Are you really a brutal marker?”

Levi smiles, and Eren can see the gleam in his eyes from a mile away. “The students make bets on how many people will get kicked out each semester because of my class.”

“Gosh, I would’ve hated your guts if you taught me.”

“Probably,” Levi says, shrugging. “But the material I teach is interesting, and I find that those who work hard succeed.”

They settle into a good silence. The kind where Eren doesn’t feel weird, and can just watch the sky darkens slowly outside, the sun so brilliant earlier disappearing rapidly as it starts to rain. Small, slow drops falling onto the window, bringing in a chill every time the door opens to let in more people. It’s not that crowded in the restaurant, but it’s not empty either.

He almost wants it to get colder just so he can put Levi’s jacket back on. In fact, screw the temperature. He can wear it now if he wants to. He’s sure Levi wouldn’t mind. Hell, Levi would probably like it—

And _whoa. Where did the sudden confidence come from?_

Maybe Eren shouldn’t question it, and instead just go with it. Taking it into stride as best as he can, he starts to put Levi’s jacket back on, already catching a whiff of Levi’s scent.

“Are you cold again?” Levi asks, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“No,” Eren says, trying not to be embarrassed. “I just like your coat.”

It’s not like it’s too hot to wear it. It’s winter, after all. At Levi quizzical expression, Eren wonders if he should’ve just lied and said he was cold.

But no. He feels icky lying to Levi, no matter how small. Eren’s already tainted so many things in lies, from friendships to family relationships. He can’t, he won’t, ruin things with Levi.

“You look cute,” Levi says for the second time in less than an hour.

Eren flushes. “Thank you.”

“I said that by accident. Disregard it.”

“You don’t think I’m cute?”

“Shit. That’s not what I meant.”

Eren laughs as Levi drinks water to hide, and it’s strange, this teasing. Eren’s not used to it. He’s not used to being flirty, or _cute,_ or confident. He’s used to drowning in sorrow and self-pity and frustration. It feels different, but not exactly in a bad way. It’s like buying new clothes that aren’t your style, but you know you like them, and somehow, once you buy them, you can’t stop wearing them. Of course, the novelty will eventually wear off, but it’s enjoyable to feel like someone else.

Someone who can feel sexy and cute and romantic.

 _This can be me if I let myself go,_ Eren thinks. He clings on to the spider thread, and he allows himself some hope for happiness for once.

Levi makes him happy. So happy. Happier than he’s ever been. It feels like home. Like real, actual love and trust.

Eren knows, he _knows,_ that it’s not because Levi saved his life. It’s because Levi stays, and Levi cares, and because Levi makes Eren want to try for a better tomorrow. He makes Eren want to reach for the sky, the stars, the moon, and remember the sunlight on his skin in the summer and the happy days with his mother planting flowers. _The bridge,_ when he’s with Levi, doesn’t seem so scary because he knows Levi will be there to catch him. It’s not an area of death and endings. It’s the place of change.

 _You can be happy if you choose._ And Eren wants to believe that he can. He wants to believe it so much that it thrums inside him, steady and strong. But…

_It’s so hard._

A single spider thread, no matter how strong, will break with the weight of a human. There’s no way he can climb up on it and survive.

And Levi’s the sky. He’s the stars, the sun, and the moon. He’s the clouds that make room for light. He’s everything and everywhere, and Eren’s entire world is _Levi, Levi, Levi._ And Eren’s the earth, polluted and dying, and he needs the sun to survive. He needs the moon, and the sky surrounds him, and suddenly there’s nowhere to look but up.

The rain is coming down harder, splattering onto the streets. People disappear under umbrellas, and the roads suddenly seem so much more treacherous. Accidents happen on days like these.

Accidents, when tires slip, or the rain is too hard to see through, or legs fold under and collapse. When it’s too cold for the homeless, and too wet for the earthworms as their homes flood. Accidents, when people hide behind the rain and become monsters, and when—

Oh.

Eren sees a couple kissing down the streets, no umbrella, getting soaked. The girl is on her tippy-toes, and the boy is wrapping her in his embrace, his coat slung over her shoulders. People avoid them like the plague, and the scene is so terribly cliché that Eren wonders how he even managed to stumble across something like this. He wonders if maybe he’s actually dreaming. But no. That’s definitely Levi’s real leg nudging him, and the smell of good food is not one possible in Eren’s dreams. And the couple is still kissing, more passionately than ever, and Eren wonder if maybe there are happy accidents. Accidents when two people collide, and things align, and the puzzle pieces click together.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a long, long while. I'm so sorry! I've been procrastinating at life (as we all tend to do. Don't lie. I see you) and this story got away from me. But I'm back, and dressed partially in black, so enjoy this roller coaster of a chapter. 
> 
> (This probably has a lot of typos and grammatical errors but I wanted to get it up as soon as possible so please forgive me).

Eren’s silent until the food arrives, but Levi doesn’t interrupt him. He looks like he’s thinking, and Levi thinks that’s good. Thinking too much can be hurtful sometimes, but Eren looks peaceful, watching the rain.

His leg nudges Eren’s under the table, and Eren looks at him briefly. Levi wonders what he’s thinking about. Is it happy? Sad? What goes on in Eren’s mind? It’s not that Eren’s an enigma he wants to solve. It’s more that Levi’s curious, and Eren’s not exactly loud and enthusiastic in the sharing compartment.

“The food’s here,” Levi says, loving the way his coat looks on Eren. Loving it way more than he should, and way more than he has the right to. Eren’s hair is still wind-blown, even after being inside for a good twenty minutes, and he’s so fucking beautiful. He’s stunning, and he’s incredible without knowing it.

Shining even in his moments of despair.

In some ways, Levi’s a little envious. He wonders if he radiates feelings like that. _Apathetic,_ his peers used to call him. _Cold._

And yet, “You’re jacket is so warm,” Eren says. “It smells like you.”

Feeling oddly affectionate, Levi nudges Eren’s foot again. “Do I smell nice?”

“Very.”

“You don’t usually say things like this.”

“It must be what’s in the water.”

Eren and Levi take a sip at the same time, maintaining eye contact, and an invisible string makes Levi lean in a bit more and stare just a bit longer.

“And what’s in the water?” Levi asks.

“Happiness. Some magic. Maybe a bit of fairy dust.”

“The food’s going to get cold.”

Eren looks at the dishes and tilts his head. “I know those are spring rolls, but what are the other two?”

“Magic. Happiness. A little bit of fairy dust.”

“Stop stealing my words. Plagiarism.”

“Sorry, I’ll make sure to credit you next time. Now eat.”

Eren takes some of everything and puts it on his plate, and Levi does the same. “That’s boneless chicken with green curry paste, eggplant, and coconut milk,” Levi says, pointing the dish closer to Eren. “And those are shrimp cakes.”

The aroma is nostalgic, and Levi remembers when he came here with Isabelle and Farlan. It feels like so long ago, but it also feels like yesterday.

“Wow,” Eren whispers, eyes blown wide. “This is so much food.”

“One main. Two appetizers. It’s not that much.”

“I don’t think we can finish.”

“You underestimate my abilities to fit food in.”

He appreciates how Eren scans him up and down. “But you’re so…” Eren pauses, blushing red, before finishing with, “Hot.”

Levi, if he had a choice, would pretend that the heat suddenly blooming on his face is from the steam of the food. But He’s tired of lying to himself, so he just lets himself be flattered. “Thank you,” he responds, trying not to make Eren feel awkward whilst also trying to convey how thankful he actually is.

“Sorry,” Eren says anyway.

Levi watches as Eren stuffs a spring roll into his voice, probably just to occupy himself, before slowly chewing and swallowing, eyes closing briefly in bliss. “I’ve never had veggie spring rolls this good?” He sighs.

“Try the curry.”

Eren does, and he actually moans. If Levi said that it didn’t affect him, he would be lying. There’s something about Eren that’s so enticing. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. But Eren today feels less like he’s going to float away in his own head, and more like he’s grounded. Confident. Present.

“What’s changed?” Levi asks before he can stop himself.

It’s even worse because Eren seems to know what Levi’s talking about, and stops eating. “I don’t know,” he says, and it sounds honest.

“You’re so…different today.”

“Is it bad?”

Levi shakes his head. “No. I like it.” And he does. It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t like the usual, reserved Eren. Too scared to make a sound. It’s just that it’s easier to talk to this Eren. The one who flirts, and moans when eating good food. The one who drives Levi a little bit crazy.

He watches as Eren snuggles deeper into his coat, and Levi wants to donate all his coats to Eren, just so he can see Eren wear them more often. His frame is smaller than Levi’s, and although Levi’s a little shorter, the coat in big, draping over him. For a scary, brief moment, Levi’s almost jealous of his own coat. Then he revaluates what he’s doing and sticks food into his mouth so he doesn’t have to think too much anymore.

God, he’s not good at this at all.

“What movie are we watching?” Eren asks, cheeks rosy and eyes bright. Brighter than Levi’s ever seen them before.

“Sully.”

“What’s it about?”

“I don’t know. But Tom Hanks is in it.”

Eren laughs. “Then I’m glad you can’t spoil the movie for me.”

“I’m just as in the dark as you are, honestly.”

Eren nods, putting a couple more bites of food in his mouth before announcing, “I’m full.” He sets his fork down, Wrapping Levi’s coat tighter around himself, and sags a little in his seat.

Looking at Eren’s plate, Levi frowns. There’s still food on it, and Eren didn’t take much to begin with.

“You sure?”

He watches as Eren’s smile dims a little, and he shrugs. “If I get hungry again, I’ll eat more. Promise.”

And really, isn’t that all Levi can ask for? Who is he to control what Eren eats and doesn’t eat. He’s not Eren’s parent. He doesn’t have a right. Not really.

“Alright. Just let me finish, and then we’ll go to the movies.” Levi clears his plate and calls a waiter over. The left-overs are packed up in a Styrofoam box that Eren tucks under his arms, and Levi pays the bill despite Eren’s protest. He can afford to spend money. Eren can’t. And no matter how much Eren wants to pay, Levi’s not enough of a dick to actually let him follow through with it.

“I saw a couple kissing in the rain,” Eren whispers while getting out of his seat, so quiet that Levi almost misses it.

“What did you say? I didn’t quite catch it.”

“I saw a couple kissing in the rain before the food came. A boy and a girl. They were holding each other so tightly that it was like they were afraid the other would be blown away. I didn’t know things like that actually happened in real life.”

Levi feels everything in him melt in a way that’s never happened before. There’s something about the way Eren says it that’s so depressing, even though he knows that Eren’s not trying to be depressing. “Sometimes, good things just happen. There’s no rhyme or reason. It’s not science, and it can’t be calculated. It’s just the way things unfold.”

“How do I find good things like that?”

Levi shrugs, holding the door open for Eren, listening to it chime as they walk into the rain. “Usually, in my experience, you don’t look for them. There’s a collision, and the pieces just fit, and suddenly two halves become a whole.”

Eren’s eyes are filled with awe, and something akin to surprise. “I thought that too. I thought about collisions, and pieces, and I think you read my mind.”

Eren smiles, a soft smile, a smile so different from his previous ones, and Levi feels like the air has been knocked out of him. Eyelashes, long and fluttering, collecting water. Fingers shaking and shoulders trembling. Levi’s close enough to count the freckles on Eren’s face. Close enough to see the exact colours of Eren’s eyes. Green, and yellow, and grey. Eren is gorgeous.

“Do we fit together like the pieces you described? Are we two halves of a whole?” Eren asks, suddenly crying. Suddenly emotional in a way that Levi somehow understands because he feels the same. And Eren’s tears are mixing with the rain in the most beautiful, tragic way. He’s crying, and they’re not sad tears, and Levi can feel his clothes becoming soaked but it’s not cold at all.

The cars are so loud, splashing water along the roads, and the wind howls. When Levi looks up, the clouds are moving as if they’re in a race, trying to outrun each other. _Faster, faster._

“We are jagged pieces, and we don’t fit properly, but the empty spaces can be filled with something even more beautiful. Something that completes the picture, but in a different way than usual.”

Eren is soft, and drifting. But he is also tied down. Levi touches his face, unable to help himself, and he wants to kiss Eren. He wants to kiss Eren more than he’s ever wanted anything before. The pull tugs on him like gravity, and he brings Eren closer.

“I didn’t look for my good thing. It just happened. That’s life, right?”

“Yeah,” Levi swallows, throat suddenly feeling very dry. “Yeah.”

Eren leans closer, and closer, and their lips could brush if Levi let them. Their lips could touch right now, and Levi would be unable to stop. They would kiss in the rain, and it would be perfect, and cliché, and beautiful.

But, “Let’s go before we’re late for the movie,” Levi says, pulling away before the collision, before the puzzle pieces can attach, and before everything in him becomes untied and he lets himself go. He pulls away, trying not the wince at pain etched on Eren’s face. He pulls away, and all he feels is the coil tightening in his chest.

_It’s not time yet._

“Right.” Eren’s nose is red, and his eyes are glossy, and he’s ethereal. But he’s also still so far away, and even when the physical distance has disappeared, Levi still felt like there was a gaping hole between them.

 _You’re just making excuses for being a coward,_ he mind taunts, and he has to look away from Eren before he actually kisses him. “Let’s warm up in the car before we get hypothermia.”

“Right,” Eren says again, but neither of them move. And then, taking a deep breath, Eren says loudly, “Did I read the signs wrong?”

For a second, Levi’s not sure how to respond, but then he gathers his wits and looks Eren in the eyes. “No. It just…didn’t feel like the right time yet.”

Levi takes a step closer, and Eren doesn’t back away. “When will the time be right?” Eren asks, gasping at Levi runs a finger down his neck.

And Levi can’t help wanting to touch Eren. Wanting to ravish him.

 _Soon,_ he wants to say. _Now,_ he wants to say even more. “I don’t know,” he says instead, and is surprised that rather than dread on Eren’s face, he sees gratefulness instead.

“That’s not a never.”

“No. It’s not,” Levi agrees. “One day, when things are more stable and less impulsive.”

“Is there something wrong with impulse?”

“I prefer certainty.”

“Do they not go hand-in-hand?”

“Sometimes. But his time, no.”

Eren nods, and he opens his mouth as if he wants to argue before closing it again. Because he must know that Levi’s right.

“It must’ve been what was in the water,” Eren whispers, looking at the sky. And as Levi steps away and into the car, he swears that he hears Eren say, “And even though the Earth needs the sky, the sky doesn’t need the Earth.”

* * *

 

Levi drops Eren off after the movie, and Eren can feel Levi squeeze his hand as he exits the car. In reassurance, or maybe guilt. Either way, it doesn’t really make Eren feel better.

To be rejected isn’t so bad. It wasn’t really as embarrassing as he thought it would be, and it wasn’t really a rejection. But in the moment, it felt right, and the tug had pulled them close enough to do it. Close enough to kiss.

And then Levi pulled away, and Eren’s heart dropped into his stomach.

But it’s fine. Things are fine. Everything’s fine. _It’ll be okay._

Eren’s not really sure if he’s impulsive, but with the rain coming down, and with Levi touching his face and neck, he just wanted to kiss the older man so badly. So badly that he went with it and gave in.

And now, as he walks into his apartment, he wonders if it was worth it. Worth the bargain. Things weren’t exactly awkward during the movie, but the moment passed and suddenly Eren felt much colder than before.

 _“I don’t know.”_ Levi had said.

And Eren doesn’t know either. He doesn’t know anything really except that it feels even worse to be alone now, without the presence of Levi beside him.

But it still smells like Levi with the jacket wrapped tight around Eren’s shoulders. He hopes that he’ll never have to give it back, but maybe he should give it back anyway. It’s a nice jacket. Probably expensive.

Remaining as just friends with Levi is harder and harder by the day, by the minute, by the second.

Armin will know what to do. Armin always knows what to do…

But Eren hasn’t talked to him in what feels like forever, and the broken threads of their friendship is suddenly all the more apparent. But Armin has such an impact on Eren’s earlier life, and if there’s one person who will always have his back, it’s Armin.

He still has Armin on Facebook, and he wonders if he should reach out. He doesn’t even know where Armin is. He doesn’t even know what time it is there. All he knows is that he needs to talk to somebody or he’ll do something he’ll regret. Something reckless and dark. Something Eren sometimes can’t help if he just wants to feel.

With that in mind, he gets his laptop, careful of the small crack at the top right corner of the screen, and turns it on, logging into Facebook.

_Eren Jaeger: Hey Armin. Long time no talk. Can we chat for a while if you have the time?_

Eren presses send before he can overanalyze and cop out, and sits back and waits.

_Armin Arlert: Eren????!!!!_

The reply comes quick, and Eren scrambles up to type.

_Eren Jaeger: Yeah._

_Armin Arlert: Wow, how have you been?_

Eren pauses, wondering how honest he should be. But then he thinks of Armin, and his blond hair and blue eyes and gentle smiles, and he suddenly feels like to lie to someone like that would be akin to beating a puppy to death.

_Eren Jaeger: I tried to kill myself a couple months ago._

Well, Eren never said he had tact.

_Armin Arlert: WHAT? JUST WAIT. LET’S VIDEO CALL._

The call pops up a second later, and Eren presses accept.

“Eren!” Armin calls out, and for a second Eren can’t even recognize him. He’s grown so much! Even through the screen, it’s apparent how he flourished. His hair is put in a ponytail, and he looks older. Less androgynous and more masculine. Sharp jawline. Broader than before. “Oh my god, are you okay? Are you getting help? What happened?”

Eren can’t help but smile a little, feeling a burden lift, and suddenly it’s easier to breathe. “I’m okay now. I’m getting help. I just hit some folds and forgot about the good stuff.”

Armin looks increasingly and increasingly more concerned. “Are you lying? You look thinner than I remember.”

“I promise. That’s actually kind of what I wanted to talk about.”

Armin nods, smiling warmly and invitingly. A reliable source of comfort. “I’m all ears. Talk as long as you want.”

“Are you sure? Is it late where you’re at?”

“Nah. I’m only two hours earlier. I’m making my way back in ten days. I was hoping to surprise you and Mikasa.”

Eren feels his breath hitch. “Really? You wanted to surprise us?”

Nodding, Armin glows. “Of course. You guys are my best friends.”

Chest tightening, Eren has to clench his hands onto his legs to make sure they don’t shake. To make sure that he doesn’t cry because he’s so emotional and relieved. “I met someone,” Eren says, looking down.

“Really?” Armin beams, throwing his hands up. “That’s great!”

“Actually, two people. Hanji, my therapist and friend. And Levi, my…” Eren trails off, not sure what to call Levi. _Friend who I want to be more with. Friend who wants to be more with me. Friend who I like a lot, and who I think likes me a lot too._ “Someone I care about very much,” Eren settles for.

“I’m so happy for you,” Armin says, and it sounds like he really, really means it. Eren forgot about this. This unconditional love. Armin’s no saint, but when it comes to his friend’s happiness, he’ll do anything. And Eren loves him. Eren loves him so much, unconditionally and with no bounds. He’s family, after all. A small family of three. Him, Armin, and Mikasa.

“I like him—Levi—so much,” Eren whispers. “Oh god, Armin. I like him so much that I don’t know what to do.”

Armin softens. “Wow, he must really be great then.”

“He is,” Eren agrees. “He really is.” How can he describe Levi to Armin so that he’ll understand? Eren tries to sort it through his head, but nothing seems to convey how good Levi is. “I was on a bridge,” Eren decides to start with, and he hears Armin suck in a breath. “I was standing there, and it was so cold, and I felt empty. And I was about to jump. My hands were on the railing, and I was looking at the water, and I hated myself and my life so much.”

Eren remembers the day so clearly that he shivers, remembering the harsh wind. Remember the still, black waters. Remembering, remembering, still remembering. “And then, there were arms around me, pulling me back, and this guy started swearing at me like I was Satan. He was so pissed, and I just remember him dragging me to his car, several hundred feet away. And I was crying, and hitting him, and he just wouldn’t budge. He was so strong, and we were both so angry. Although he sounded more annoyed.

“And he took me to his house, told me his name was Levi, gave me food, let me take a shower and change. And he let me just vent. It just poured out, because he was a stranger and I was emotionally unstable, and it felt so good.” It’s weird telling this story to someone else because Eren’s never done it before. Not to Mikasa, not to Hanji, not to anyone. But it feels right, telling it to Armin. “And Levi stayed. He didn’t just take me home and forget about me. He introduced me to Hanji, non-binary and crazy as hell. And they invited me to Christmas after Mikasa ditched me, and I was accepted.”

“Wait,” Armin holds up a hand. “Mikasa ditched you on Christmas?”

“She was going through some shit,” Eren says, and he doesn’t know why he’s defending her, but after their reconciliation, he can’t help but do just that. “We’re better now. She’s better now. I’m better now.”

“Alright. Just. I want to see both of you when I return. Together. And I want to hang out and stuff. And we can’t really do that if she’s being a dick to you.”

“She’s not,” Eren reassures. “I promise.”

Armin purses his lips. “It doesn’t sound like her to ditch you at all. She was so overprotective of you when we were younger. I remember you drifting a little apart, but it’s weird to hear about her ditching you instead you ditching her.”

“I know.” Eren says, and he does. “But things are okay now. We’re working on it. Slowly.”

“Have you told her the story you’re telling me yet?”

Eren looks away, ashamed, and feels his throat close up. “No.” Just a whisper. “I want her to be happy. I don’t want her to know.”

“You have to tell her. She’s your sister.”

“I know. I just, it’ll ruin her.”

Armin sighs. “Eren.”

“I know.” It comes out choked. “I will. I promise. Just, later.”

Nodding, it looks like Armin’s accepted the impossibility of winning the argument, so he settles down, changing the subject. “It’s nice, what Levi did for you.”

“Yeah,” Eren agrees, even though ‘nice’ doesn’t feel like the right word because it’s bigger than that. “We hung out earlier today, and we almost kissed, but he pulled away.”

There’s another intake of a breath on the other side, a pause, and then, “I’m sorry, Eren,” Armin says softly, but Eren just shakes his head.

“It wasn’t a rejection, I don’t think. I asked if I read the signs wrong, and he said no. He said that he would rather we wait until it was less impulsive and more certain.”

“It’s not a bad idea to wait.”

“But it hurts.”

“I don’t know how to help.”

Eren clenches his fists tighter, digging his fingernails into his legs. “I don’t know how to get rid of this pull. Why am I so attracted to him?”

Armin shrugs, smiling ruefully. “It hurts to love. But it can also be the best thing in the world. It’s not something that you can just make disappear.”

“I don’t want it to disappear. I just want it to not hurt as much.”

“Oh, Eren,” Armin says. And it says it like how someone would talk to a wounded animal. Eren doesn’t mind the pity. Sympathy. Whatever it is. He lets it wash over him, Armin’s words providing solace that’s hard to come by.

“I’m glad we got to talk,” Eren says, suddenly tired. He yawns, and Armin grins from ear to ear.

“Cutting the conversation short already? We’ve only been talking for ten minutes.”

A pang of guilt cuts through him and he meets Armin’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“No! Don’t say sorry! I was only teasing.” Armin looks a bit frazzled, and it helps ease some of Eren’s distress. “You sound tired. Get some sleep.”

A breath of relief.  “We’ll meet up once you come back, right?”

Armin nods. “Of course. And we’ll talk more before then.”

Eren nods, and before he ends the call, Eren says, “You look good. I’m glad you’re talking care of yourself. I bet you’re finally taller than me now!”

He hangs up before Armin can respond, and collapses onto the floor, feeling the coldness under his cheek.

Feeling the exhaustion of the day finally hit him, and he wonders why Levi pulled away. He wonders about the real reasons, and if maybe Levi’s a liar and hates his guts after all. And maybe Levi pulled away because he’s secreted disgusted with Eren, or maybe he just views Eren like a kid.

_Younger. Immature. Not good enough._

And he knows he’s spinning it out of proportion, and he knows this, but he can’t seem to stop. It comes naturally to him, almost like an instinct, and he can’t help but put himself down.

_I’m not good enough._

_I’m not good enough._

_Not good enough._

_Good enough._

_I’m good enough._

_Good enough._

_Enough._

Eren closes his eyes briefly before forcing himself back off the ground, wondering why he’s on it in the first place. It’s barely evening, the night is young, and he can write a little of whatever he wants before dinner. He goes back to the laptop, and opens and word doc, and the words come pouring out before he can stop them.

_His hands, tangling in my hair, and the rain is so heavy. Heavier than anything I’ve ever felt. He breathes, and I breathe him in. He’s older than me, and braver than me, and he runs his fingers down my neck, towards my back, and I let him._

_There is comfort where he is._

_He brings the sun with him, and sometimes the moon. He lights up my sky with stars, aligning and forming constellations. My world revolves around him, and I wonder if he feels the same way._

_I wonder if I’m as important to him as he is to me, and if this feeling will ever be given a name that fits. Love isn’t deep enough to describe this bursting cavern of emotions. Something that once was innocuous suddenly burns. The sun, as bright and brilliant and wonderfully warm as it is, burns after I stand under it for too long._

_But I love it._

_And as long as I feel it, the cold doesn’t creep back in. The cold is but a distant memory, and something I’ve long since cast aside. When he’s near, I’m given oxygen. My veins fill with fire. I’ve never felt anything so powerful, so raw, and so beautiful._

_If I am ever given the choice between freezing and burning to death, I will choose to burn every time._


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn't edited. Like, at all. Not even read over once. But I'm leaving the house soon and I wanted to get it up today, so I'll edit it when I have time. Hopefully it's not too shit!

It is freezing in the morning. Eren gets up mechanically, goes to his closet mechanically, gets dressed mechanically, brushes his teeth and washes his face mechanically. He peels a banana, eats half of it and tosses the other half, then drowns a glass of soy milk. All without blinking. All without breathing. All without being alive.

This is his life alone.

A machine, creaky and old, and in desperate need of oiling.

He gets his bag, throws on a coat, a beanie, and some gloves, and walks out the door, making sure to lock it. His body feels weird. His lungs feel short on breath. He’s colder than he should be.

“Hey Eren,” Historia, a nice lady on his floor greets as he makes his way out of the apartment building.

“Hi Historia. How’s the girlfriend?” It’s hard not the respond to Historia, even when Eren’s feeling terrible. There’s something so engaging about her. Maybe it’s because now she only smiles when she means it. When Eren first met her a couple years ago, she used to smile all the time, even when she wanted to cry. Even when she wanted to stab that person grabbing her boobs.

But then things changed.

 _“Stop it. Stop smiling all the time when you don’t mean it. And stop letting that creep touch your boobs. Seriously.”_ That’s what Eren had said to her, and she snarled, literally _snarled_ at his face, so different from the person he was used to seeing. But the next day, she slapped the neighbour across the face when he tried to touch her, and threatened to call the police. And she stopped smiling all the time, which might sound depressing, but Eren thinks the opposite. Now, when Historia smiles, the world lights up and every one smiles with her. It’s different when someone smiles and means it.

A month after Eren called Historia out, she introduced him to her girlfriend.

Now they talk some. Not really enough to be considered friends, but it always puts Eren in a good mood to see Historia in a good mood.

“Good,” Historia beams. The entire building suddenly seems brighter. Her blond hair glows, her eyes gleam, and Eren has to blink to make sure he’s not hallucinating.

“I’m glad.”

“Me too.” She says. Then she scans Eren up and down, and asks, “Off to work?”

Eren nods, blinking the fuzz from his eyes.

“Well, you better be going now. I’ll see you around, alright?”

Eren nods again, feeling mentally better but physically worse than he did when he woke up, and makes his way out, trying not to trip and fall on his face because, today, it feels likely. The restaurant he works at is, at most, a thirty minute walk, so he should be fine. It’s not the best restaurant, but because there’s an ice cream shop in it, a lot of teenagers and children stop by.

Glancing to the sky once he stops at an intersection, Eren watches the clouds roll by. It’ll probably be raining again by noon. It’s always raining by noon.

He remembers yesterday.

He remembers Levi pulling away.

He remembers the clench, the hurt, and relief, and then the emptiness. It’s hard to explain how much it hurt, but also how much it didn’t hurt at the same time.

_“Did I read the signs wrong?”_

_“No. It just…didn’t feel like the right time yet.”_

Is there ever going to be a right time? Eren doesn’t get it. It felt right to him. The puzzle pieces were clicking, and being filled, and the picture was finally coming together, and then, in a blink of an eye and a slight breeze, the pieces go flying.

A sudden dizzy spell hits Eren, and he has to grab the post next to keep to keep from falling down. He must not be eating enough if he’s nearly blacking out. Maybe he should’ve finished the banana. Whatever. He can always treat himself to some ice cream during his lunch break, even though the thought of eating makes his stomach do weird churns.

The light turns from the red hand to the walking person, and Eren crosses the road, not bothering to check for cars.

 _What would Hanji say for being so reckless? What would Levi say? Don’t you want to live?_ His mind asks.

 _I don’t know,_ Eren responds. Then he wonders why he’s holding a mental conversation with himself, and wonders when this became the norm. Everything feels intensified today. Everything feels so strange, so new. Some days just happen to be rawer than others, and he must just be having a hard time getting his walls up today. It happens. Whatever. He’ll deal with it like he always does. He’ll just continue on with his life, and act, and not get an Oscar even though he’s the best fucking actor he knows.

Blips and bumps in the road he can deal with. It’s the fifty feet drops that he’s afraid of. That he almost fell into.

“Eren!” Pixis greets not even a second after Eren enters the restaurant, warm air blasting him, all cheerful. His mustache looks grayer than usual, and his head even balder and shinier.

“Mister Pixis, you’re getting old.”

“Oh-hoho. And you’re getting bold. What happened to the shy little boy who gave me his resume with trembling hands?”

Eren shrugs, letting Pixis clap in on the back. “Sleeping.”

“Well, too bad you can’t be sleeping either.” Another clap on the back. Eren tries not the flinch because he should be used to this. “Now get to work.”

Eren nods, putting on an apron and going to the cash register, pulling the stool out to sit in which he knows he’s not supposed to do. No sitting on the job, but whatever. Pixis glances at him but doesn’t say anything, so Eren must look especially exhausted.

“You alright there, son?”

Eren nods, almost falling over trying to stand up, courtesy of another dizzy spell. “I’m fine,” he chokes out, wanting nothing more than to be with Levi again, and laugh with Levi again, and let Levi touch his face again in the rain. And maybe actually be kissed by him. And feel his lips, and his fingers, and _Levi, Levi, Levi—_

 _Fuck._ What’s wrong with him? He’s never been so smitten before, and it’s terrifying.

“You sure?” Pixis furrows his eyebrows, thin lines of hair crossing. Thin lines on his shiny forehead. Lines all over his face, showing his age that he wears with pride. Eren wonders if he’ll ever live to be that old.

“Yes.”

“You look like you’re about to pass out.” He clicks his tongue.

“I’m,” Eren swallows, “Fine.”

“I’m sending you home,” Pixis grumbles, already, getting out his phone to call what Eren assumes to be a replacement.

“I’m fine.”

“You’ll be payed still.”

“I’m fine.”

Pixis takes Eren by the shoulders, holding him steady. “Go home, Eren. I won’t allow you to work when you look like you’re about to fall over at any second. And for the love of god, eat something. You get thinner every time I see you.”

Eren swallows, and sways, and swallows again, his throat aching terribly. Black spots dance before his eyes. “Alright,” he whispers, licking his cracked lips.

“Do you have a ride?”

“It’s just a thirty minute walk. Some fresh air will do me good.”

Pixis sighs. “Eren, Jesus Christ, call someone or I’ll bring you home myself.”

“But you’re managing the restaurant.”

“Exactly. So call someone.”

Not exactly having many options, Eren nods, taking out his phone reluctantly. He debates who to call, and realizes that he has two options. Either Hanji or Levi.

And because he really wants to see Levi, but also really, really doesn’t want to, he calls Hanji instead.

“Eren?” Hanji picks up after the first ring, even faster than usual.

“Hey, I’m at Café Rose on 41st. Can you pick me up?”

Hanji doesn’t even ask anything questions, nor do they hesitate. “Of course. I’ll be right over.”

Eren hangs up, putting his phone back into his bag. “Someone’s coming.”

Pixis nods, face still stuck in that weird, concerned expression, all furrow-browed with his phone to his ear. “How’s about you wait in the back. I’ll get Thomas to cover your shift for today.”

“I can wait here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Eren sits back down, rolling his shoulders. “Make sure to tell Thomas thank you for me.”

Pixis nods, eyebrows still furrowed. Jesus, will he ever unfurrow them? “Of course. Take it easy for the rest of the day, alright?”

Eren nods, already making the decision to agree to everything Pixis says because it’s easier that way. If he was to tell the truth all the time, he would probably be committed to a mental asylum. Some white lies here and there don’t really hurt anybody but himself, and he’s so used to hurting himself that it’s fine. He can handle it.

He can always handle it.

He sits there, sticking his hands into his pocket so he doesn’t fidget too much, but it’s uncomfortable so he takes them back out. Gosh, his head hurts. This is what he gets for not eating and sleeping enough. Soup sounds nice.

“EREN!” Hanji calls, running over a bit bedraggled not even ten minutes after Eren called them. “Eren, are you alright?”

He nods slowly, lethargically, somehow feeling worse than he did a minute ago. He doesn’t even have the energy to open his mouth anymore, and his throat is so dry. It’s suddenly so cold on his skin, but so hot on the inside.

“Your face is all red,” Hanji remarks, concerned as they bring a hand to Eren’s forehead. “Wow, you’re really burning up. Why did you even get out of bed?”

Eren shrugs. “I’m sorry if you were busy,” he says, voice quiet and inarticulate.

“Hey, hey, it’s fine. I wasn’t doing anything.” Hanji helps Eren stand, speaking softly, and starts supporting him to the door. “Careful, alright?”

“I didn’t want to call Levi,” Eren whispers, breathing close to Hanji’s ear like he’s sharing a secret. It’s so cold. His skin feels so hot. His limbs are aching like they’ve never ached before, especially his legs, and he wishes for nothing more than to sleep. But not alone. Sleep with someone next to him, holding him, making sure he’s alright.

“May I ask why?” Hanji eases Eren into the car, so gentle. Much gentler than Eren’s used to anyone being.

“I don’t want him to…” Eren gathers his thoughts, realizing that he’s saying the wrong thing. “It hurts to be with him right now.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Because I’ll whip his ass.”

“I’m sure.”

“Did you hurt him?”

“No.”

Hanji starts the engine, looking straight ahead as they pull out of the parking lot. “Did he kiss you?” They ask, stoic. Serious. Not like Hanji at all.

Even in his feverish state, Eren can still be surprised, and he looks over at Hanji, biting his lips once they start to wobble. “No.” He rubs harshly at his eyes, so angry. “No.”

Softening again, Hanji twists their mouth. “Was I close?”

Eren swallows, but his throat only seems to get dryer. “Yeah.” He slinks into his seat, and wraps his jacket tighter around his body with one hand while pulling his beanie lower with the other, hiding his eyes. He doesn’t know if he’s crying because of the physical pain he’s in right now, the emotional, or a mixture of both. Probably the last one. “We were about to,” hiccup, “kiss, and then he pulled away.”

Hanji frowns. “That’s weird. He’s smitten with you.”

Rapidly, the beanie is off Eren’s head, and he’s blinking at Hanji. “Really?”

Hanji nods, smiling a little. “Yeah. I can’t believe you didn’t notice.”

“I did,” Eren says. “I thought so too, which is why I don’t understand him pulling away. He said that I wasn’t reading the signs wrong, but I’m wondering if maybe he just said that to comfort me.”

“No,” Hanji shakes their head. “If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that he really wants to kiss you. I don’t know why he would pull away.”

Eren shrugs, beanie back on, feeling terrible as he shivers, hating his immune system for failing him. Maybe it’s because he was out in the rain yesterday. “I don’t know why either. I don’t think he does either.”

“I don’t think he was rejecting you.”

“Me neither. But it still feels kind of like rejection. Just a little.”

Eren looks at Hanji through his peripheral vision and sees their frown deepen even more. It’s startling to see Hanji with a frown because they’re usually always smiling. Not that Eren’s never seen them serious. Just not really like this. They’re puzzled, and confused, and Eren’s so used to Hanji just knowing everything.

“Honestly, Eren, I think maybe you should just wait this out. He’s a bit cranky because he thinks he’s too old and that you’re too young.”

“He thinks I’m too young?” Eren cries, huddling up on the seat, although he’s not at all surprised. “How am I supposed to fix that? Should I act older? I’m I too immature? Should I—”

“Ah, ah, no, no, no,” Hanji says, frantically, stealing the left turn whilst they’re at it. “That’s not what I meant. He’s just weird about the age gap. And I told him not to be because he’s really not that old, you know, and you’re an adult, and it looked like it got through to him, but maybe he’s still stuck on that.”

“I dunno,” Eren mumbles. “Maybe he’s just not interested.”

“Do you honestly believe that?”

Eren looks out the window, watching the wheels of the other cars on the road turn into blurs. “No. At least, I hope not.” Eren’s shivering again, and Hanji’s eyes have gone all motherly.

“Are you cold?”

“Yeah.”

“I have a jacket on the backseat. If you have enough energy, you can reach over and get it.”

Eren, wincing as his turns over to the back, grabs the black coat on the middle seat. The seatbelt chokes him until he returns to his original position, trying not to cry again because his limbs are so achy. Maybe he has a virus, like the flu. That would explain why his brain feels stuffed with cotton balls. But then again, fevers have always done that to Eren. The cotton ball effect, ruining his life since forever.

He wraps the jacket around his already existing jacket, not really getting any warmer, but appreciating Hanji’s sentiment none the less. “Thanks,” he mutters, inhaling the scent of the jacket out of habit, and to his surprise, the smell is completely, achingly familiar. Eren feels his eyes blown wide for a second before snuggling the jacket closer. “Is this Levi’s?” Eren asks, closing his eyes to block out the rest of the world.

“Um,” Hanji glances over. “Should I ask how you knew that, or are you going to tell me?”

He’s feeling too sick to be embarrassed, and if he’s blushing, his face is probably already too red from the fever to tell, so fuck it. There’s no harm in telling the truth. He’ll probably die of embarrassment later once he’s feeling better, but for now he just responds, “It smells like him.”

Hanji coos like a mama bird. “Eren, you’re so cute.”

Eren nods, not even registering what Hanji just said, opting for snuggling into the jacket, trying not to lose the smell. Trying not to let it stab him in the chest and wishes, briefly, for Hanji to be replaced with Levi at the moment. He shakes that quickly out of his head, already feeling the crushing guilt crash into him in waves. Here’s Hanji, taking time out of their schedule to pick Eren up. And here’s Eren, dragging his ungrateful ass all over the place, wishing for Levi like some fucking schoolgirl out of a shoujou manga.

“I can talk to Levi for you, if you want.” The car slows, pulling up to his apartment, and Eren shakes his head.

“No. I want to be the one…” he trails off, meaning to say, _“I want to be the one to talk to him,”_ but he gets too distracted by the figure standing outside his apartment building, leaning against the wall. “Wha…”

“Levi?” Hanji hisses under their breath, getting out of the car before helping Eren out slowly. He wobbles, but they steady him.

The figure, apparently Levi although Eren’s brain is too fuzzy to tell, starts walking over.

“Eren, fuck, are you okay?” Levi’s jogging now, supporting Eren’s other side.

“Fine,” Eren waves him off, confused. “Just sick. Hanji was nice and brought me home.”

“Levi?” Hanji repeats, blinking.

“I’ve broken Hanji,” Levi huffs, raising an eyebrow.

“Help me to my apartment.” Eren butts in, holding tightly onto Levi’s arm.

Hanji blinks at Eren, then blinks at Levi, then blinks at them both. “But, Eren, not even ten minutes ago you said you didn’t want to see—”

“Well, I’m sick. I say things I don’t mean.”

Hanji rolls their eyes, but they’re smiling so Eren knows they’re not actually mad. “Of course. You have such a weak resolve.”

“I know.”

“Eren.”

“I know. I know.” Eren’s too tired to really argue, and he just wants to sleep. Or eat some soup. Or really anything to get his legs to stop hurting for a second. It’s a bone-deep ache, one that can’t be massaged out, and Eren just really hopes this is a 24 hour sickness that can be fended off with some good rest.

“You support that side, I’ll support this side,” Hanji suggests.

“For the love of god, Hanji. He’s not dying,” Levi grumbles, even though he was the one who ran over to Eren. Even though he does what Hanji says anyway. Even though his face is all scrunched up in concern.

It’s too much concern from too many different people in too little time for Eren to process.

“Levi’s right. I can walk, you know.”

“Shut up,” Levi says at the same time Hanji says, “Too bad.”

“Why are you all pissy?” Eren asks, voice muffled by his clothes.

“Because I’m thinking about yesterday,” Levi responds, bluntly, quickly, without a single blip in his words.

Eren nearly stumbles. God, he’s too sick for this confrontation. Too tired to deal with this. He can’t. He really, really can’t. The cavern is opening up in his chest again, and he wants to just slap both of their hands away and just run. Hide. Get away from people. Get away from this feverish skin.

“Levi, not today,” Hanji says, reading Eren like a book, and Levi purses his lips, but nods.

“I know,” Levi responds, sighing. “Of course I fucking know.” He steps back, giving Eren some room.

“I just kind of want to be alone right now,” Eren whispers, voice fading out near the end of his sentence.

So much love, so much anguish. Both Hanji and Levi look pained. “Alright,” Hanji says, and Levi gives Eren a warm, completely uncharacteristic, smile.

“Eat,” Levi says, and Eren nods. “Drink lots of water.” Eren nods again. “Sleep early today.” Eren nods and nods and nods.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes to them both. “Maybe we can meet up sometime.”

“Of course,” Levi says softly, the same time (they seem to be butting heads today) Hanji asks, “Levi, why aren’t you at work?”

“Took my lunch break early.”

Hanji rolls their eyes. “What a stroke of luck.”

Glancing at Eren—something Eren definitely catches, even in his hazy head—Levi shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe not. Take care, Eren. I’m not kidding. You worry me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry. We’ve been over this.”

“Right.”

“Eren,” Hanji says, ruffling his hair. “Listen to Levi and take care, alright. I’m sure your problems will be sorted soon.”

Eren nods, bids them goodbye, and separates himself from them by entering his apartment, closing the door, going to his room, closing that door too, and going to the closet, closing that door too.

It’s pitch black, and terrifying, but it helps keep Eren’s mind off the pain of the fever. The pain of his sensitive heart. The pain of life and living and everything in between. He’s a glum. He’s aware. But he can’t be bothered to care. He’s sick, so whatever. That’s his reason.

It hurts to be curled up in a closet, and all he wants to do is to stretch his limbs out. But he doesn’t want to get up. He doesn’t want to have to think about anything but fiction, and fantasy, and not real life.

Real life sucks.

That’s why people write so many fiction stories. Book after book. Happy endings. Romance. Things that always work out, and heroes who always save the day, even when it seems impossible.

So they can escape reality, where heroes don’t exist, and villains rule the world.

* * *

 

Eren forces himself to get up to eat a couple hours later, crawling out of the closet in cold shivers. He makes himself a sandwich, eats three quarters of it before his stomach clenches, and swallows some Tylenol to keep down the fever.

He checks his temperature. 39.8 degrees Celsius. No wonder why he feels like absolute shit. He also feels like shit for how he treated Levi earlier, and he gets out his phone to call him before his guilt swallows him whole. Before, he would’ve never done this. But he’s trying effort to keep people in his life, and it’s hard, but it’s even harder to lose them.

“Levi,” Eren says the moment the ringing stops.

“Eren?”

“I’m sorry about earlier!” Eren cries before he can lose his nerve. Black spots dance in front of his eyes, and he grabs the counter, nearly falling. _Take it easy, take it easy._

There’s silence on the other side for a while, and Eren waits with baited breath. “Why are you apologizing, you idiot?” Levi finally says, and Eren nearly gasps in relief.

“I was rude.”

“You were sick.”

“Doesn’t excuse it.”

“You weren’t even rude at all. If that was your definition of rude, what the fuck’s your definition of not rude?”

Eren laughs, a bit scratchy and strange, but it’s a laugh none the less. Genuine. Freeing. “I feel like shit right now, but if you want to play butler, you can come over if you’re off work.”

“You okay?”

“I get dizzy when I stand up.”

“Shit,” Levi breathes. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“No. It’s just the fever.”

“Did you eat?”

“Yes.”

There’s a rustle, and Levi says, “I’m on my way. Heading out now.”

“Thank you,” Eren breathes, going to his room to drape a blanket over himself like a cape before walking back out, nearly tripping in the process.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

There’s warmth, covering Eren’s shivers, and his stomach settles for a second. It must be the magic of Levi.

 _Magic. Right._ Eren’s hopeless. Completely bonkers. It’s insane.

His healing welts on his arm itch, and he scratches at them absentmindedly, curling up on the sofa with his blanket as his limbs start to ache again. Cotton balls in his head? Check. Cold sweat? Check. Shivering violently? Check. In pain? Check.

Eren’s bewildered at how easily Levi agreed to come because he knows that he’s definitely not going to be good company. He might even pass out before Levi arrives.

_Don’t fall in love._

_Don’t fall in love._

_Don’t fall in love._

_Don’t fall in love._

_Remember? He’s the sky. The sun. He’ll burn you. You’ll hurt him. You hurt everyone._

Eren remembers, back when he was younger and actually had the ambition to be on the track team. He was a long distance runner. He remembers how good it was to get a sweat on, and how much it hurt sometimes, but also how accomplished he would feel after. His lungs would start to squeeze, his throat would dry out, and god, his legs would burn. They would feel like fire.

Sometimes, the pain is worth it. Sometimes it’s not. It’s ridiculously difficult to discern beforehand what will be worth it in the end, and what will end up in regret. Difficult, and pointless. It’s impossible to avoid pain. It’s impossible to avoid hurting others. Maybe it’s time to stop missing out on opportunities because he’s too busy being afraid.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some cute fluff as an apology for taking so long.
> 
> TW for suicide ideation.

The door to Eren’s apartment is unlocked, and Levi walks in, ready to go on about how dangerous it is, and how someone could come in and—

He’s getting overprotective. Damn. And it’s only been, like what, a couple months? He’s always been protective, according to Isabelle. But never like this. He knows it’s never been like this.

_We fall_

_Too quickly_

_And too recklessly._

Eren blinks up at him, a bit groggy, and fuck, fuck, fuck, Eren’s adorable.

He’s completely wrapped, like a burrito, in a huge ass blanket. Only his head is visible, and he’s shaking like a leaf.

Levi worries. He can’t help but worry. There’s always the pressing consternation when it comes to Eren’s health. Is he eating enough? Sleeping? Has he hurt himself again?

“How’s the fever?” Levi asks, lifting up the blanket so he can squeeze in next to Eren. It’s not like Levi at all to purposely sit so close to someone because he’s usually the avoiding type, but with Eren, rules don’t apply.

Everything about their relationship is unusual, from the way they met to the way they interact. Levi’s, surprisingly, okay with that.

“Stubborn. But it’s gotten better since I took some Tylenol.”

Levi brings his hand to Eren’s forehead, and he feels the heat radiating off of Eren before he even touches him. Even so, goosebumps rise on Eren’s skin where Levi lifted the blanket, and his entire body quivers.

“I think you need to go to the hospital.”

“I can’t stand hospitals,” Eren shakes his head. “My dad was a doctor.”

Levi breathes, in his nose and out his mouth. Every time Eren mentions his dad, he wants to punch something. Preferably Eren’s dad’s face, but since he disappeared off the face of the planet, there’s nothing to do but squeeze Eren’s shoulder in reassurance through the blanket.

“No hospitals for now then. But if you get worse, we’re going.”

Eren nods, albeit a little reluctantly, but he doesn’t argue. Grateful, Levi sighs, not wanting to try to talk Eren into doing something he doesn’t want to. Hospitals, no matter how crap sometimes, are a necessity in certain circumstances.

“Water?” Levi asks.

“Yes please.”

Things are, thankfully, not as tense between them as Levi expected. Eren, so far, has let Levi into his apartment, squish up next to him, and is now drinking from Levi’s water bottle because he was too lazy to get up and pour Eren some water from the kitchen. It’s too fucking far, and it’s inconvenient to move in the position that they’re in right now.

“Thank you,” Eren swallows, handing the bottle back to Levi. He rocks back and forth, into Levi’s arms and out. “Can we just, be silent for a while? I’m not feeling well.”

Levi swallows, brushing Eren’s bangs that are sticking to his face away. “Of course,” he sighs, letting Eren lean on his shoulder. This type of touching is the best kind. Soft, and gentle, with nothing attached. Pure comfort and innocence.

There’s a shallow breath, followed by a stutter, and a soft, nearly silent gasp of pain escapes Eren’s lips. Levi, hoping it’s nothing serious, rubs slow circles into Eren’s arm underneath the blanket, and looks at Eren’s face. Really looks at it, maybe too intently.

He’s beautiful. Ridiculously so. Even with dry, cracked lips and rosy, fevered cheeks. His hair is a mess, and he looks worse for wear, but he still takes Levi’s breath away.

“I don’t know why I pulled away,” Levi whispers, and it’s a secret that he probably shouldn’t have said. But he said it, and it’s out there, and he’s not about to take it back.

“Well,” Eren smiles, painfully and slowly with short, effort-filled gasps. “You’ll have to wait for another chance because I’m sick right now.” He glances at Levi behind his eyelashes, probably not aware of how insufferably seductive he’s being, and licks his lips to moisten the dryness. “I feel like shit. Don’t want to give you the plague or anything.” Leaning further into Levi, Eren closes his eyes, chest moving up and down in and unsteady pattern.

“I wouldn’t mind,” is out of Levi’s mouth without his consent, but he doesn’t dare take it back. Not when it’s the truth.

“I would. This sucks. I would hate for you to feel like this too.”

Levi, not knowing how the respond to something so sweet, says, “I thought we were being quiet.”

“You started talking first.” Even with his eyes closed, Levi can tell Eren’s rolling them, and Levi almost bumps Eren’s shoulder in retaliation before Eren lets out another pained groan.

“Gosh, my limbs are killing me.” Eren rolls his shoulders, raising his head off of Levi, and lets the blanket slide off his slowly. “It’s a bone-deep ache. I hate it.”

Levi glances at Eren’s exposed skin, new goosebumps already covering it, and spits out, “Can I massage you?” before he loses his nerves.

Eren pauses, and it’s completely silent as his face slowly gets redder and redder. “What?” He stutters, not looking at Levi.

“We were just talking about kissing,” Levi points out. “What’s so wrong with a massage?”

Eren doesn’t look like he knows how to respond, and he wraps his arms around himself, shrugging. “A massage seems so much more…” He grasps for words, and it looks like he’s actually suffering. Levi takes the blanket off himself too, grasping Eren’s hand. “A massage seems more intimate,” Eren finishes, standing up only to sway and sit back down.

“Are you opposed?”

A pregnant pause, and then, a hesitant squeak, “No.”

Levi can’t help the flutter in his chest, and he wants to groan. He’s not supposed to be like this. _Cold,_ the others called him. Then what is this warmth?

He holds his breath for a second, trying to get his pride back, and eases Eren Down. “Lie on your stomach,” Levi instructs, knocking the blanket onto the floor so that Eren can lie on down on the couch with no obstacles.

“Alright,” Eren croaks, teeth chattering. He lies down, wiggling so that his shirt rises up, and stays still.

When Levi stands up to get in a better position, he can’t help but fathom at how fragile Eren looks. Breakable. Small. Delicate. But he knows now that Eren’s none of those. Not really. He’s stronger than he gives himself credit for.

With an achingly slow pace, Levi gently puts his hands onto Eren’s bare back, easing the shirt up further until most of his skin is exposed. Eren shudders, and Levi feels the vibrations through his palms all the way up to the rest of his body. Tenderly, lighting, he strokes down Eren’s vertebrae, pressing down on each one with two fingers.

Eren’s breath turns light for a second, unsteady, and Levi doesn’t know how to feel. He doesn’t know if he should be so proud of himself. He doesn’t know how to handle being this close to Eren at all. Eren, with his soft, thin skin. There’s a clear, obvious dip in his spine, and light freckles disperse on his back like they do on his face.

He is, despite what Levi originally noticed, a very freckly person.

With careful affection, but also more pressure, Levi kneads near Eren’s shoulder blades, savouring every tremble, every hitch of breath. A thumb down Eren’s back, two fingers pressed to his shoulders, a slow burn, growing in Levi’s stomach.

Eren is someone unforgettable, inescapable. It’s impossible to avoid the effect he has on Levi, and Levi’s not even sure he wants to anymore.

Levi presses into Eren’s back with much more force than before, eyes widening when Eren moans. It’s not even an erotic moan, but it’s still too much.

_Not enough._

Shut up, brain.

“Can you press there again?” Eren asks, voice muffled and wavering.

Levi presses in the same spot.

“A little higher.”

His hands shift a little higher, and he kneads into Eren’ skin, feeling the way the muscles clench.

_Beautiful._

_He’s so beautiful._

Levi’s hands, pressed against Eren. Stuck to Eren. Together. Unseparated. They are one, and it’s incredible. It’s hard to describe how hard it is to be confident with Eren, but even more so to be tentative. And lightly, so lightly, Levi presses his lips to the dip of Eren’s back, and again to the largest freckle, right below Eren’s neck.

And Eren lets him, with a sigh and a wobbly breath of air.

_Impulsive._

Levi’s being impulsive.

 _I’m a hypocrite,_ Levi thinks, smiling to himself. In this case, maybe it’s not so bad.

* * *

 

It’s a gradual tingle. One that builds. And Levi’s lips, on Eren’s skin, almost make him explode. It’s barely a breeze, but it tingle goes all the way to the bottom of Eren’s spine, and he has to try hard not the fidget and destroy the carefully constructed moment between them.

They are hanging by a thread, tangled between soft, plushy clouds, and a wrong move will send them crashing back down to Earth.

He lets Levi touch him, and he lets Levi kiss him, and it’s almost overwhelming. It _is_ overwhelming. Eren feels as if his brain has short-circuited, and maybe this is a delusion in his crazy mind.

But Levi’s touch is real. And the goosebumps on Eren’s skin is real. And this feeling. This absolute, indescribable pleasure, is real. A fondness opens up in Eren’s heart, and he wants Levi to touch him like this forever. To feel the cold, tender hands on his back. To open up. To be bare, naked, completely unraveled.

Levi’s lips, soft and warm, kiss behind Eren’s ears, on his head, at the line of his pants. His breath is warm against Eren’s skin, and there’s no way Eren can be cold like this even though he was freezing before.

How can he be cold when the sky, his sun, is right next to him?

Maybe it’s the profound sadness that sometimes opens up inside Eren, or maybe it’s the desperation to feel good for once, but Eren finds himself being ridiculously sentimental. “Stay with me like this for today, alright?”

Levi doesn’t even pause. “Of course.”

Levi’s hands don’t leave, and it never stops feeling good, and Eren wonders what would happen if every day could be like this.

If he could spend the rest of his life with Levi.

Eren doesn’t think he’ll mind at all.

With Levi, boundaries are destroyed, walls are taken down, and checkpoints are crossed and reinstalled, only to be crossed again. With Levi, the clouds split asunder, and lightening shocks Eren to the core. With Levi, everything is amplified. Every emotion. Every word. Every touch.

And they are one. A touch. A single contact. And suddenly, Eren’s world is spinning on a different axis. Suddenly, everything is brilliant.

“I thought of something really stupid yesterday,” Eren mutters, mouth pressed against the couch.

“Yeah?” A hand brushes his cheek. “What was it?”

“I thought about you being the sky. The sun. The stars and the moon. You are everywhere, and everything, and I am the earth, depending on you. But you don’t depend on me.”

Levi continues to massage Eren, not saying anything for a while, and Eren wonders for a panicked minute if he’s fucked everything up. But when Levi speaks, it’s with affection. “You’re an absolute idiot.”

Eren startles, but settles and smiles. “I know,” he whispers.

“We’re human beings. We aren’t comparable to the Earth and the sky and whatever. That’s the shittiest metaphor I’ve ever heard. Besides, if I was to listen to your metaphor, I would need you too. If I’m the sky and everything in it, you’re a part of me too. I’m a part of you. We are together.”

“The sky is everything and everywhere. The Earth is not.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

Eren laughs, real and loud and emotional. And then he’s crying because he’s always crying, and it’s not a regular day in his life if he doesn’t cry at least five times. And he’s crying because Levi’s sometimes mean, but also funny, and he tries so hard all the time to make Eren feel okay.

Because often times, Eren’s really not okay. Because Eren sometimes wants to tear his skin off his body and bury himself alive. Because Eren sometimes looks at the water in the bathtub and calculates how long it’ll take for him to drown. Because Eren traces his veins every morning, marveling at how easy they’ll be to rip into and bleed himself out.

But Levi makes him forget those things. Levi makes Eren want to do all the things that he thinks he can’t do, and even more the things he knows he can.

“You’re funny,” Eren sobs. “You’re so funny. I don’t understand it at all.”

He turns over and sits up, letting his shirt back down, and suddenly they’re hugging like they’ve never hugged before, and Levi’s clinging to Eren almost as tightly as Eren’s holding on to him.

Eren watches as Levi smiles, then laughs, louder than Eren’s weird concoction of laugh-sobs. Loud enough to make the empty apartment feel like a party. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you this entire time. I’m really funny.”

Head buried into Levi chest, Eren lets himself fall apart, and fall back together, all in the span of seconds. The puzzle pieces, once scattered, finds a new piece, and no wind blows them apart.

* * *

 

“Are you eating better now?” Hanji asks, biting the end of their pen like there’s no tomorrow.

“Yes,” Eren answers. “Kind of.”

Hanji pauses the pen-chewing, peering at Eren through their new, thick framed glasses. “Kind of?” They ask, voice low.

Eren swallows. “I like your new glasses.”

“Thank you,” a pause, “What does ‘kind of’ entail?”

Eren shrugs, knowing that diverting Hanji’s attention is only possible when he actually wants their attention. “I can feel the hunger now at times, but it’s easy to forget to eat still.”

With a twist of the lip and a flourish of the hand, Hanji sighs, and Eren’s terrified that he’s disappointed Hanji for a second before they look up, beaming. “That’s progress! That’s good. We just have to work to improve more now.”

Hanji’s enthusiasm is contagious, and Eren nods. “Of course.”

“Set alarms for yourself to eat, or get a reliable friend to call you. You forget, right?”

Eren nods, then shakes his head, then shrugs. “Sometimes, yeah, but sometimes I just can’t be bothered.”

Hanji writes something out down, and Eren rises a little, trying to look at what the messy scrawl says, but thinks better of it and sits back down properly.

“We have to work on that too, your lack of motivation.”

Embarrassed, Eren looks at his feet, kicking his socks on the floor he’s just cleaned. Putting it like that, it sounds like he’s lazy. But he’s not. It’s just hard sometimes. Too hard to get up. Too hard to turn on the lights and open the blinds and face the day. “Yeah,” Eren mutters, and Hanji notices the slump in his shoulders and the pout in his voice.

“It’s not a bad thing, Eren. It’s just something to work on. A lack of motivation doesn’t mean you’re lazy. For you, it’s just your depression, and your depression doesn’t define who you are, alright?”

Eren nods, not even surprised that Hanji’s somehow read his mind. They do that a lot. Maybe they should get a second career as a psychic. “It’s hard.”

“Of course it is,” Hanji agrees. “That’s why you’re not doing it alone.”

Eren changes the subject. “I have a friend coming back in a few days.”

Interested, Hanji leans forward, nodding. “A good friend?”

“My best friend,” Eren confirms. “He travels a lot, and he’s super smart. He’s a really popular author.”

“Really? What’s his name?”

Eren smiles, feeling the pride for Armin blossom. “You wouldn’t recognize it. He uses a pseudonym, and I’m not about to betray his privacy.”

Hanji nods wildly, but look disappointed none the less. “Of course, of course,” they sulk. Eren giggles behind his hand, only stopping once Hanji’s pout turns into a glare.

“His real name’s Armin. I’m picking him up from the airport in a few days, and we’re going to hang out with my sister.”

“That’s good. That sounds like fun.”

Picking at his nails, Eren nods. “It does. I hope it goes well.”

“I’m sure it will.” Hanji’s always a comforting presence, and their words are usually honest, so Eren believe them. He really does, but he’s also jittery and anxious, eagerly anticipating, but also equally dreading, the arrival of Armin.

Not because he doesn’t want to see Armin. Not at all. He just hopes that he and Mikasa can keep it together. He just hopes he won’t ruin it with his stupid brain and stupid everything.

“You’re thinking so loud that I can actually hear you putting yourself down in your head.” Hanji twirls the pen, wiping their saliva away from the end, and sends Eren a pointed look.

Hanji should really, really consider becoming a psychic.

“I can’t help it,” Eren defends, walls up, ready to fight for his right to fall into a slump, but Hanji knocks his walls down, with a single twist of their lips, and Eren slumps in defeat. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me.” Hanji shakes their head, sighing again, but not exasperated. More disappointed, or sad. “Apologize to yourself. It’s upsetting to always see you put yourself down.” Which is fine, sure. Eren knows it’s upsetting to the people around him. But he can’t stop. He doesn’t know how. It comes as naturally as second nature. “I’m sure Levi doesn’t like it either.”

Shit. Hanji played the Levi card. The card that turns Eren to mush, and his heart to putty. The card that hurts the most, but also makes Eren feel the most. “That’s not fair,” Eren protests, quietly, and Hanji nods.

“I know. But it’s the truth.”

Eren knows it is, and it only makes him hurt more because he never wants to hurt Levi indirectly by hurting himself. But he does anyway. He hurts Levi, and Hanji, and Mikasa, and Armin.

“I wish he didn’t care so much,” Eren says, then immediately shakes his head even before Hanji can open their mouth. “Wait, no. I take that back. I just. I want to be better for him. For you. For my sister and my friends.”

He thinks it’s the right thing to say, but Hanji only shakes their head, and Eren’s stomach drops. He doesn’t understand what he said wrong. He also doesn’t understand why he’s trying to appeal to Hanji’s ideals so much. Surely, if he actually wants to get better, he’ll tell Hanji the truth instead of what they want to hear.

In the case, he failed both ways.

“Eren, that’s not what I want at all. And you’re totally lying to me anyway, aren’t you?”

Eren can’t even speak.

“I want you to get better for yourself,” Hanji voices, and Eren goes rigid, feeling the frost that’s started to collect melt away.

“Huh?” he articulates, very, very eloquently.

Hanji’s face falls, crumples, and they look so, unbelievably sad. “Did it never even occur to you to fight for yourself?”

“Of course it has!” And it’s the truth. “It’s just easier to do it for other people.”

“Eren, you’re supposed to be your number one. No one else. You’re your main priority.” Hanji’s voice isn’t harsh, but it’s absolute. Firm, with no room for arguments.

“But, isn’t that considered selfish?” Eren mutters, looking at the floor with blurry eyes, not understanding. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s not selfish to look after yourself. People always say to put others first, right?”

Eren nods.

“I call bullshit,” Hanji continues. “There’s no point in looking out for others if you’re destroying yourself in the process. It’s not selfless or selfish. It’s just plain stupid.”

The words resonate, deeply and deeply, shaking Eren from inside out. It’s such a different way to look at things that he doesn’t even know what to say next, or now to get words out. Hanji leans back in their chair with crossed arms and blinks rapidly. Eren’s sure he hears a passionate sniffle, and he wasn’t even aware that sniffles could be passionate.

“Taking care of yourself before taking care of others isn’t a bad thing. It’s a very, very good thing. To be selfish is to lack the consideration for others. Is taking care of yourself lacking consideration for others? No. It’s just considering yourself first, which is necessary.

“You still have to look out for others, naturally. But please never think that you have to get better for someone else.” Hanji’s crying, Eren realizes with a start. They’re crying, and rubbing their eyes frantically, chewing on the pen again. “Just get better for yourself, alright?”

Eren nods, baffled, and moved, and also craving ice cream even though he just recovered from the flu not even a day ago. And he runs everything Hanji’s said through his head, again and again and again, trying to process it. Trying to sort it out. Because it makes so much sense that it doesn’t make sense at all, and he wonders why he never thought it was okay to put himself first.

“I better get going now,” Hanji says, collecting their things with drying eyes, smiling brightly at Eren. “Just remember what I said, okay? Because I mean everything I said with a passion, and if you don’t listen,” they stare at Eren, “I’ll know.”

Eren swallows, and he believes them because they somehow know everything to the point where it’s beyond creepy.

“You should be a motivation speaker,” Eren says, and Hanji throws their head back with a booming laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners.

They run a rushed hand through scruffled hair, tightening the messy ponytail. “I would scare everyone before I even get the second sentence out. Levi, however,” Hanji hums. “He could probably be one if he cleaned his mouth out.”

Maybe to someone else, it would be hard to believe. But Eren remembers everything Levi’s ever said to him, and remembers the first night they met, and finds himself nodding because it’s true. Because he believes it to be true, and because Levi motivates him to get better like no one else can.

Hanji looks at Eren curiously, but only for a second, before exiting with a wave and a, _“Ta ta for now.”_

Eren watches them leave, and Hanji’s incredibly astute and animated, and they always make Eren feel like he’s falling short. But he’s used to feeling like he’s falling short, so he just lets himself appreciate who Hanji is instead.

 _Thank you,_ Eren thinks because he wasn’t able to say it out loud earlier. He likes to think that with Hanji’s psychic ability, they hear him anyway.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really thought this was going to come out faster. I wrote this chapter a while ago, and I have a couple other chapters written, but the thing about writing in advance is that as I improve, I start to hate what I wrote before. So this story isn't extremely well-written, I'm perfectly aware.  
> but hey, I enjoy writing it, so that's what counts, right?  
> Anyway, onward to the story: a certain blond is finally seen in person.

The airport is terribly crowded, and also extremely unfamiliar. Eren’s been to an airport probably the same amount of times he can count on one hand. That’s to say, not very many times. He has no reason to travel, no money, and well, even if he wants to, there’s really no time. But he’s not at the airport for himself. He’s picking Armin up today.

 _Armin, Armin, Armin_ , the excited part of his brain chants. There’s also the part that just wishes to go home and sleep, but he swallows that part down. Eren already gets too much sleep anyway. Or not enough. He can’t really tell anymore because his brain is so jumbled that everything’s curling together in a blob.

The B15 gate is swarming, people exiting at rapid fire pace, business men in suits, families with luggage, babies wailing, but still no sight of a small blond.

And although Eren’s never really boded well with crowds, he’s too anxious about seeing Armin again to be anxious about anything else. He’s completely, utterly overwhelmed, but he clamps his hands, inhales deeply, and forces himself not to think so much.

Somewhere in the middle of the wave of people exiting, he sees a blond head and a familiar face stand out through the crowd, and Eren realizes why he didn’t notice Armin earlier. Because Armin’s not a small blond anymore. And although Eren noticed growth during the video call with Armin, he wasn’t expecting it to be so prominent.

The height is probably the biggest difference.

Armin’s taller than Eren now, much like how Eren predicted, and definitely handsome enough to make everyone around him swoon. His hair, still as bright and angelic as ever, is knotted on his head in a bun.

Irrationally, Eren wonders why he can’t pull off hairstyles like that.

“Eren!” Armin calls, rushing over, and Eren’s so thrown off balance when Armin hugs him because he’s not used to being the short one. The one who comes up to Armin’s nose when standing straight. The smaller of the two. “I’m taller,” Armin notes, eyes opening in wonder, and Eren’s only retaliation is to stick his tongue out.

Although, the teasing doesn’t really last long because they’re back to hugging again. And to outsiders, they must look like a reunited couple, but it’s more than that. It’s family.

“I missed you.” Eren’s face is pressed into Armin’s shoulder, another thing he’s not used to. “I missed you so much. I’m—”

Armin cuts him off before he can get another word out. “If you’re going to apologize for a stupid reason like you always do, don’t. I’m the one who’s supposed to fret, remember?”

“Right.” Eren swallows. “But let me say it anyway.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I don’t apologize.”

Armin sighs, holding onto Eren tighter. “Eren. Don’t you understand? Family hurt each other all the time without meaning to, but they stick together. That’s what family is. You being here is enough of an apology.”

Eren’s lips quirk up. “Is this an actions speak louder than words thing?”

Armin nods, and their eyes meet, and it’s so nostalgic to look at the baby blue that Eren nearly forgets to breathe. There’s nothing intimate about their position. There has never been anything even remotely romantic between them. It’s just Armin and Eren. Friends. Family. Inseparable. That is, until they were separated. “It is.”

“I’m forgiven?”

“I was never mad.”

Eren breathes out, shoulders slumping, and he lets go of Armin first.

“Although,” Armin adds. “I’m concerned about you.”

It’s not really surprising, considering the circumstances, but Eren’s not really sure how to reply with anything but, “I know. But I’m getting better. Promise.”

“Should I trust you?”

Ouch. If there’s anyone who has always trusted Eren, it’s Armin. Hearing him say that is akin to a punch in the gut, although Armin has every right not to trust Eren. Every right to cut ties with him and never look back. But there’s enough time for moping later, so Eren looks at Armin in the eyes resolutely and nods. “Of course.”

That’s all there is to it.

* * *

 

“Thanks for letting me stay in your apartment for tonight. And for the rest of my stay here.” Armin loads the luggage onto the back of the taxi, the driver waiting semi-patiently, tapping his feet every two seconds.

“Of course. As if I’d let you spend your visit in some sketchy hotel.”

Armin smiles, shoulder bumping Eren, and looks at the sky with twinkling eyes, reflecting the starts already appearing in the early evening.

“I never actually planned to come back,” Armin admits. “And even if I did, I was never going to stay for long.”

“Are you trying to justify you selling your childhood home?”

“Hey!” Armin defends, albeit jokingly. “I was a broke college student. What did you expect?”

“You were like 15 when you went to college, crazy ass genius. That’s your fault for being so smart.”

Armin snorts, and Eren takes the moment to appreciate Armin. His intelligence. His assertiveness. The way he reads every situation so clearly. If the school-boy bullies saw Armin today, they wouldn’t dare pick on him. Pride burns in Eren’s chest at the thought, and he turns away before he can get too sentimental.

They both get in the car, strap in the seatbelts, and Eren tells the driver the location. They’re off in a flash, the car accelerating in a 15 kilometers per hour zone, and Eren grips onto the seat as Armin laughs at his clumsiness.

“You know,” Eren muses. “You really don’t have to pay for the taxi ride. It’s going to be expensive as hell.”

“You’re housing me for a month. I think we’re pretty even.”

“Point taken.”

The road passes by them in a blur, and on the highway, the other cars are barely visible with how fast they’re going, flying by. Trees turn into green, shapeless blobs, and the sky is significantly darker than it was twenty minutes ago.

“Say,” Armin says to the taxi driver, leaning forward as they continue to accelerate. “Shouldn’t we be going slower?”

The driver slows down a bit, mumbling a “sorry” that Armin waves off, and Armin looks back at Eren mouthing, _“Yikes.”_

Eren laughs because he can’t help it. “The expression on your face!” Eren half-whispers because it’s too silent in the car to talk at normal volume. The radio isn’t on, and all that can be heard is the engine and the wheels on the road of the other cars swishing by.

There’s nothing unusual about the experience. Armin and Eren make silly faces at each other, laughing silently when one of them makes an especially ugly one, and the taxi driver pops in some gum and breaks the silence occasionally with the loud chews. Other than that, it’s just like any other taxi ride Eren remembers.

Which is why, when they start to accelerate again, he doesn’t even really notice it.

Faster.

Faster.

Faster.

And it’s only when Eren’s stomach lurches that he notices how fast they’re going, that he notices how nothing is really visible anymore and that this certainly can’t be safe. Panic blossoms, and Armin leans forward again.

“Um…are you supposed to be driving this fast?” Armin asks, although he’s looking at Eren’s bobbing knees.

“Everything’s fine,” the taxi driver says, smacking his gum. “I’ve been doing this for twenty-five years.”

Armin looks like he wants to say more, but Eren gently eases him back with a touch on the shoulder, not really wanting to cause a commotion when there’s nowhere else to go. Armin sits back down properly, and Eren lets out a sigh of relief once the tension dispels.

“It’s fine,” Eren whispers.

Armin nods, although his face is carved out of stone as he looks out the window. “We’re going really fast.”

“It’s fine,” Eren iterates, although it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself. His heart rate is accelerating at the same speed as the car, and this time it’s Armin who puts his hand on Eren’s shoulder, offering reassurance.

Not even a second later, Armin’s hand is flying off Eren’s shoulder, and the car is swerving off the road violently with screeching tires. The silence is no longer silent, and everything explodes into supersonic sound as Eren screams, pressed against his seat. And Armin’s screaming too. And everyone’s screaming. And everything in the car is flying as well as Eren’s stomach.

_Are they flipping?_

Pain explodes where Eren’s head hits something, and the windows shatter, showering him with broken glass. Showering him with broken everything. He can’t breathe, and he brings his arms to his face, gasping.

“Armin,” he cries out, closing his eyes. Fighting for breath. Trying to reach out for something to grab. Anything. The seatbelt is choking him, and it hurts. Everything hurts and his chest feels like it’s squeezing him to death.

Everyone is still screaming. It’s a horrible sound, but above all else, reassuring. Screaming means life.

“Armin,” Eren calls again, feeling something warm gush down his head into his eyes, partially blinding him in red.

_Stay calm._

The taxi driver is trying to get out of the car, swearing loudly, and Eren finally finds Armin’s arm.

“FUCK,” Armin screams, and it’s probably the most vulgar word Eren’s ever heard him use. There’s already a crowd gathering outside, if Eren’s blurry eyesight is correct.

Eren’s heart is bursting from his chest. His lungs constrict. He can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, _he can’t breathe._

But the sob isn’t a sob of pain. It’s a sob of relief. It doesn’t seem like anyone’s majorly injured, although he doesn’t even know what happened. Is there another vehicle involved? Is there an ambulance coming?

“Armin,” Eren repeats, over and over and over, as loudly as he can, and he feels a hand grab him and squeeze him. _Armin._

“Are you hurt?” Armin shouts over the chaos, and Eren can’t respond because he’s not sure. He can’t tell, and even though he feels and hears everything around him in colourful, big, loud blobs, and his hearing is too sharp, the throbbing in his head makes it hard to think.

“My head, my head,” Eren chokes out. “I hit it.”

He hears Armin sob. “Is it bad?”

Neither of them can see each other, both shifted to weird angles from the crash and both too scared to move anything but their hands, gripping tightly onto each other.

“Fuck.” This time, it’s the taxi driver, crawling through the broken window and getting cut on glass. “Just wait. I’ll get you two out. Just wait. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He sounds panicked, terrified, a garbled mess of words. “Fuck.”

“There’s blood in my eyes,” Eren remarks as calmly as he can, and Armin laughs wetly.

“You might have a concussion. Don’t sleep, alright?”

And Eren laughs too because that’s the last thing he want to do right now, which must be a good thing. Being alert is probably the best thing to be right now.

“I should’ve been more stubborn when telling him to go slower,” Armin hiccups, and his hand clenches around Eren’s tight enough to make him wince.

“Don’t,” Eren grinds out, trying to calm his breathing into nice, even breaths. Trying, in futile, to do the same to his heart. “Please don’t.”

“Alright,” Armin agrees. “Alright. Just don’t blame yourself either.”

They both breathe deeply, at the same time, only breaking rhythm when Eren’s exhale shudders. Another hitch of a sob. The blood is dripping off his chin now.

“How badly are you bleeding?” Armin’s trying not to sound like he’s scared. Eren appreciates it, even though he’s failing quite spectacularly.

“I don’t know. Head wounds bleed more, right? It’s probably okay.”

“Yes, yes. Head wounds bleed a lot,” Armin chokes. “You’re fine.”

“Are you hurt?” Eren asks, wanting to take the seatbelt off because _it hurts. It burns._ He identifies a concentrated pain from his elbow as well, and he hopes that Armin’s alright. Hopes with everything in him.

“The seatbelt hurts. But other than that, I think I’m okay.”

The hysteria eases slightly, and Eren’s breathing becomes steadier. “We’re okay.” His hands are shaking, but Armin gently rubs circles into his calms, easing him.

“Yes.”

“They’re going to get us out of the car.”

“Yes. As soon as the pathway becomes less obstructed.”

“This is real.”

“Yes.”

“We’re okay.”

Eren hears Armin chuckle, steady and warm. “Yes, we’re okay Eren. Just worry about your head injury alright? That’s what I’m worried about right now.”

“Alright,” Eren whispers, but he’s less terrified than before. Much less terrified than before. Armin’s not too injured, and Eren doesn’t feel all that drowsy, and the pain is tolerable. He swallows.

“We’re alright,” Armin says. “Breathe with me.”

Eren does. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Slowly, his airway opens ups, and the chaos around him fades, and he’s just glad, so glad, that he won’t lose someone from his family today.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter isn't edited.

The ambulance arrives about ten minutes later. So do the police cars, the firetruck, and another wave of concerned bystanders, coming and going in packs.

The firemen completely demolish the already-demolished car, although with a lot more control, and pull Armin out first, placing him onto a gurney. They pull Eren out next, although it takes longer because he’s in a more precarious position. But they get it done, and Eren’s placed onto a gurney as well, still blinking the blood from his eyes, knowing that his eyelashes are probably clumped with it.

They’re asked to describe their injuries, and Eren goes first. _Head. Elbow. Ribs. Can’t really breathe properly._

They note it all down, not seeming all that concerned, which helps relax Eren.

Armin describes some pain from the seatbelt, and really nothing else, and they let both Eren and Armin sit in the ambulance, deeming them well enough go without a gurney. A paramedic is holding a gauze to Eren’s head, applying pressure, and Armin sits next to Eren close enough so that they’re touching.

“You’ll probably need stitches,” the paramedic informs, and Eren hums in acknowledgement.

Stitches aren’t the worst thing in the world, and the situation could’ve been a whole lot worse. _Twenty times worse._ Even that thought alone is enough to get Eren’s breathing weird again.

“You’re fine,” the paramedic informs with a gentle, honeyed voice. She rubs circles into his back, and Armin smiles at her in thanks.

Eren’s just trying not to have a panic attack on the way to the hospital.

He keeps remembering the car flipping, and being so confused because _why is his stomach suddenly in his throat?_

The screaming.

The shattering glass.

The moment where he’s not sure how hurt Armin is, and if everyone’s okay. The driver’s in a separate car, trailing the ambulance to the hospital.

 _“Loss of control,”_ the driver said. “ _Was going too fast.”_

The police are following them to the hospital too, just to get more insight. _“You might be given the option to press charges,”_ one of them said, looking at Eren’s bleeding gash with concern. _“But for now, you probably just want to go to the hospital.”_

Flipping cars.

Screaming.

Glass shattering.

Eren feels his heartbeat speed up, and settle, and speed up again. And it’s not like he’s terrified for their safety anymore. It’s just that he’s a bit shaken. And he knows that Armin’s shaken too. It’s hard not to be after what they’ve been through.

Besides, the pain is making him a little wonky. His elbow feels destroyed, and his ribs feel like they’ve been beaten with a hammer. He’s also starting to feel a bit woozy, a little like the flu he had over a week ago. But more painful. Although, the most prominent feeling is how glad he is that Armin’s alive, next to him, smiling tiredly.

* * *

 

“Eren. I’m looking for Eren Jaeger?” Mikasa’s panting for breath, and Jean eases a gentle hand on her shoulder, squeezing slightly.

“Relationship to the patient?”

“Sister—”

“Mikasa!” Someone calls, and Mikasa’s head whips over, searching for the voice. Someone familiar and blond is waving at her, looking a little worse for wear, but not terrible.

“Oh my god, Armin. Is that you? Are you okay?” She runs over, gasping, but Armin only laughs gently, always smiling exactly like how Mikasa remembers. “Where’s Eren?” She demands. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he reassures. “Just some bruising around the ribs from the seatbelt. Eren’s getting a cast fitted because he dislocated his elbow. Oh, and some stitches on his head.”

“He’s okay?”

“He’s fine.”

Those words let lose a flurry of emotions, most positive, and she sags into Jean’s arms, taking a well-deserved breather. “He called me over an hour ago and told me you guys were in an accident, and that everyone was okay and that I didn’t need to come.”

“But you came anyway,” Armin notes.

“I had to. He’s my brother.”

“Of course.” Armin nods his head in agreement, smiling gently at Mikasa even though he looks exhausted. He then extends a hand out to Jean. “Hi, I’m Armin.”

Jean grasps his hand, looking out of his depth. “Um, Jean,” he introduces a bit awkwardly. “Mikasa’s boyfriend.”

“Nice to meet you.” He sounds like he means it. “I’ll take both of you to where Eren is.” Armin marches forward, and Mikasa marches on next to him while Jean trails behind.

Eren’s sitting on a hospital bed in a room full of other hospital beds, legs dangling over the side, and he perks up when Armin walks in, only to deflate when he is then followed by Mikasa and Jean.

She tries not to let it hurt, but it does anyway.

“Mikasa?” Eren twists his head. “I thought I told you not to come.”

“I was concerned.”

And to her surprise, Eren doesn’t even hesitate before smiling. “Thank you for coming.”

She nods, and Jean looks at her curiously, probably because she looks so shocked. “Oh, um, of course,” she stutters, wondering why she’s so surprised. Wondering why Eren suddenly seems so much closer to earth than before. Less unreachable. More attainable.

She scans Eren over, pursing her lips at the giant gauze on Eren’s forehead and the heavy-looking cast. He’s also sitting strangely, like it hurts.

“You guys should sign my cast later!” Eren smiles, bringing Mikasa out of her examination, and she smiles back.

“Of course.” She pretends, for now, not to notice the two other messages already written on the cast, even though she’s curious. She holds off though because Eren looks just as exhausted as Armin, probably barely awake, and her chest aches for the both of them. The only reason she hasn’t lurched forward and hugged any of them is because she doesn’t really know the extent of their injuries. They both look like they could use a hot bath, and maybe ten months of sleep, and although Eren told her Armin was coming a couple days ago, it’s still weird to see him.

He stands next to Eren like he’s been there for his entire life.

It’s almost like he never left, and it’s strange, leaving tingles in Mikasa’s chest. “It nice,” she breathes, “Seeing you two together.”

She notices, of course, how Eren’s attention is slightly directed to the floor, and how Armin suddenly looks sheepish. “Yeah.” Armin places a hand on Eren’s shoulder. “We’ve been terrible at keeping in touch.”

“Probably my fault,” Eren adds.

They look at each other and chuckle, and Mikasa wonders if she’s missing something or if they just fall back together that easily.

But of course they fall back easily. They’re family.

Her family.

“I can go on a couple minutes, as soon as the paper work is done.” Eren moves to jump up, but Armin eases him back down.

“I finished the paper work,” Armin says. “Calm down. We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”

Eren nods, standing up with more care, and this time Armin doesn’t stop him. He then takes a sharpie pen, hand it to Mikasa, and sticks out his casted arm. “Sign it.”

Mikasa laughs. “Of course.” She signs her name, and writes _get well soon <3 _and recaps the pen.

“Jean can sign it too.” Eren nods in her boyfriend’s direction, and Mikasa almost drops the sharpie.

“You know who I am?” Jean stutters before flushing and gritting his teeth.

Eren’s eyebrows furrow. “Mikasa’s boyfriend, right? If you’re a part of her life, sucks to be you because you’re a part of my life too. She’s my sister.”

“Yeah,” Jean snorts, “But I don’t think I want to sign the cast of someone who’s hurt her as much as you have.”

Mikasa’s horrified. “Jean!” She snaps, watching as Eren drops his arm slowly, smile slipping off.

“What the fuck?” Armin sounds just as pissed as she feels, and Mikasa can’t stop gaping. Jean is completely stoic, the opposite of usual, and he sneers, _sneers,_ at her brother.

“Do you know how many times she’s cried because of you? Because she doesn’t know how to be a better sister for your selfish ass? Too many to count.”

Oh no. Oh fuck. Eren’s looking at the floor, and Mikasa hopes he’s not crying because then she might have to break up with Jean. And then start crying too.

“Jean,” her voice is firm enough to make him freeze, and he turns over to her like he’s seen a ghost. Good. He should be scared. “That’s enough.”

“Right,” he mutters, anger fading. His fists remain clenched, but his shoulders are less tense. “Right. Let’s just go—”

“I’m not selfish.” Eren’s looking up again, straight into Jean’s eyes, and Jean’s frozen all over again. Mikasa’s frozen too, entranced by the ice in Eren’s eyes. By how resolute they are. “I’m not. There was a time when I might’ve believed that I was, but I’m no more selfish than the average human.” Eren shrugs, smiling wryly. “Granted, I’m pretty sure the average human is extremely selfish, so call me what you want.”

And Mikasa has to do something. She has to something because, “Eren pays for me, you know?” She’s glowering at the floor, voice quiet, not letting Jean touch her even though she’s talking to him. “He works his ass off to pay for me. He always took care of me. After our,” she swallows, the strength and volume of her words rising, “mother died, we had to look out for each other. And after our father left, I lost it. I ditched him. I ruined our relationship. I ditched him on Christmas to go to a party and I left him over and over and over. If anyone’s selfish, it’s definitely me.”

There’s a silence after, but Eren grasps Mikasa’s hand into his, and everything is much warmer than before. He squeezes before letting go, but it feels like the opposite of letting go. It feels like being reconnected.

“Let’s just get out of here,” Jean breaks the silence first, face red, already trudging for the door, only to be stopped by Armin.

He’s smiling sweetly, even though it’s obvious that he doesn’t mean it. He’s pissed. And a pissed Armin is probably the scariest thing in the world. Even Jean shudders, and he doesn’t even know how much worse it’s going to get.

“Aren’t you going to apologize to Eren first?” Armin’s steely calm, but the madness glints in his eyes. The madness that can only be found within a genius. It makes Mikasa shiver, but when she looks over at Eren, he looks proud.

“He grew up.” Eren’s looking at Armin, even when Jean comes over to apologize with a trembling voice. Eren nods, accepting the apology, but his gaze is locked on Armin the entire time, eyes never leaving the blond, not even when they start to walk for the door.

And Mikasa knows what he sees because she sees it to. She sees it in the way Armin carries himself, and how much more confident he’s become. His physical changes are but a small part of his development and growth. He’s sure of himself now, and completely aware of everyone around him and how to manipulate them. He can play people like puppets if he wants to, and he’s so controlled it’s terrifying.

“Yeah,” Mikasa whispers, mouth dry, and she understand the pride Eren feels for Armin now. The Armin who used to be picked on, and who used to be too afraid to stand up for himself or his friends. “He did.”

* * *

 

 “What are the other names on your cast?” Mikasa’s asks. Jean is walking next to her, keeping a bit of a distance, and he drags his feet like a pouting child.

Eren looks down, wondering what she’s talking about for a second until he notices Levi and Hanji’s little messages. “Oh,” he smiles. “They’re from some friends.”

Her eyes widen. “The one’s the spend Christmas with?”

“Yeah.”

“Why weren’t they there when I came?”

Eren’s a little offended because Mikasa’s talking like they did something horrible. But really, Levi and Hanji have better, more important things to do than hang out in a hospital for two hours. “They left literally seconds before you came. They have work, you know.”

She looks to the ground, mouth twisting into a look Eren identifies as guilt. “Right. Sorry.”

He doesn’t know what to say after, and luckily, he doesn’t have to say anything because Armin’s a blessing.

“So, Mikasa. I heard you got a job?” Armin’s voice is cheerful, and he walks two strides in front of Eren, longer legs giving him the advantage.

A taller Armin will definitely take some time getting used to.

“Yeah,” Mikasa blinks up, surprised at begin addressed. “At a bookstore. It’s fine. Busy.”

“That’s good.” His blond head bobbles into a nod before his attention turns to Jean.

Jean visibly swallows.

“You know,” Armin whispers, stepping closer to Jean.

Jean steps back. Armin steps closer. Eren looks away and pretends he doesn’t know them, although he wonder if he should diffuse the situation, but Mikasa just shakes her head.

For a second, Eren’s scared as to what Armin’s going to do to Jean, but all he says is, “Thanks for offering to drive me and Eren home.”

Jean swallows again “No problem.” It comes out as a squeak, and Eren can’t really blame him. Or hate him. It’s true, after all. Eren’s caused Mikasa a lot of unnecessary pain, and he deserves to be blamed, to be guilt tripped, and he deserves to be hated.

But Hanji’s taught him a lot about selfishness, and he knows that most times, he’s not. Taking another step, Eren winces at the shooting pain in his ribs. It’s apparently badly bruised, which is good and bad. It still feels like he broke them though.

_Be more careful next time, dumbass. Don’t make me worry so much or you’re paying for my hair dye once I get grey hairs._

_-Levi._

_Sorry about what happened. Hope your arm heals quickly and with no difficulty. Love you, cutie!_

_-Hanji_

Short messages, written in colourful ink. It makes Eren feel like flying. Especially Levi’s. Mostly because, in a time when Eren felt like crying, it made him laugh. It still makes him laugh when he reads it now. Maybe even more so.

“You okay?” Armin asks, catching Eren’s wince.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” A wave of a hand, and Armin’s chatting with Mikasa again about who knows what. Catching up, probably. They’re both smart people, so maybe they’re talking about school.

“Hey.” It takes Eren a full five seconds to realize that Jean’s somehow next to him, and talking to him.

“Oh,” Eren looks at the taller male. Blond hair, definitely dyed. An undercut. Long face. Handsome. “Hi. Thanks for being our ride.”

Jean shakes his head. “It’s no problem. Sorry about before.”

Eren tilts his head before looking to the ground. One foot in front of the other. Don’t step on the cracks. It’s a long walk from the hospital to the car, and Eren wonders why Jean had to park so far away. “It’s really not a problem. It’s not like everything you said was wrong.”

Looking constipated and very much in pain, Jean rests as awkward hand on Eren’s shoulder that he has to force himself not to shrug off. “Just, you looked out for Mikasa more than I though. So thank you.”

It’s a weird, unexpected praise that Eren doesn’t really think he deserves, but he nods in acceptance anyway. “Of course.” His chest feels too tight. “She’s my sister.” Maybe he should return a compliment. “You know,” he starts after a short moment of silence. “You make her really happy. Happier than I’ve been able to make her in a long time. Just thought that you should know.” And because Eren doesn’t really want to see Jean’s reaction, he walks faster to catch up to Armin and Mikasa, not daring to look behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote quite a bit more after this chapter, and I keep forgetting about Eren's cast XD


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pre-wrote this a while back and just never got around to editing it. And also, as I slowly close up on my pre-written section, I get sadder and sadder because I haven't had the time to write more. But then I realized that I haven't updated in over a month and screw it, you guys deserve this, so I'm very sorry and please forgive me.
> 
> On another note, this isn't a happy chapter. It's pretty depressing, but not like, too depressing. At least I hope not.
> 
> Trigger warning for self-harm. I'll leave more details in the end notes but it contains minor spoilers.

Armin is collapsed on the couch, snoring softy as his suitcase remains by the door, unpacked. It’s so weird, seeing him in Eren’s apartment, sleeping on Eren’s couch. Weird, and strangely nostalgic even though Armin’s never been to this apartment before.

Maybe Eren should wake him up to eat, but it’s been a long day, and he’s exhausted too as well as in pain. Food can wait a bit—

No.

Fuck. This always happens. He always finds excuses not to eat because it’s easier than to actually get up and make food. But Armin’s here, and probably normal, so he’ll be hungry. And Eren has to be a good host and a good friend.

He trudges over to the kitchen, wondering how to cook with only one functional arm, before shrugging and deciding to microwave two packages of frozen stir-fry. It doesn’t take long. Maybe ten minutes, and by the time the microwave beeps for the second package, Armin’s already stretching.

“Mmm. I smell food,” Armin groans, and Eren can hear him crack his neck even from the kitchen.

“Nice nap?”

“No. I’m more tired than when I fell asleep.”

Eren laughs gently, unable to stop himself even though it hurts. There’s something about Armin’s presence that just makes him undeniably happy, almost about hazed.

“Food,” Armin groans again, walking over to the kitchen like a zombie.

Taking out the food from the microwave with caution (it’s hot!), Eren puts one on his cast and holds the other in his hand, bringing them both to the table. “Grab some forks,” he tells Armin. “First drawer to the right.”

Armin grabs some, as well as two sheets of paper towel, and set it on the table.

It’s nice, sitting next to Armin and eating in silence. A mutual silence, with no awkwardness to be found. They finish the meal quickly and toss the plastic containers into the trash, and both of them collapse back onto the couch.

“You okay?” Armin says after a moment of silence, and Eren looks up at the ceiling, counting the bumps of the rough surface.

“I’ve been better, but I’ve also been worse.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“About what?”

“Anything. Everything.” Blond brows wiggle. “Levi.”

Eren laughs, loud and genuine, and so hard that he has to stop to catch his breaths. “I missed you.”

“You’ve already said that.” Armin’s smiles anyway, practically bleeding fondness and Eren lays his head onto the blonde’s lap, taking comfort in the familiarity that he forgot about.

“Levi’s so good to me,” Eren says, only a bit wistfully.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you kissed yet?”

Eren knocks his fist lightly against Armin’s arm, pouting. “No. Now shut up and stop rubbing it in.”

Armin laughs, and it fills the house with warmth, and Eren swears that even though the lights are dim, everything gets brighter. Armin just has that effect on people. He’s too smart for his own good, and he just gets people. Kind, caring, willing to freeze hell over for his friends. It’s honestly more than Eren’s ever deserved, but he’ll be lying if he says that he’s not thankful. Without Armin, he definitely would’ve died ten years earlier.

If Eren wasn’t so self-deprecating, he might admit that it goes both ways. After all, he was the one who stood up for Armin, who beat up the assholes bullying him, and who held him during his grandfather’s funeral. And Eren knows all this. The information sits there, somewhere inside him, but he ignores it because it’s so easy to hate himself.

Eventually, Eren’s mind slips away, and he lets himself embrace unconsciousness again, feeling Armin’s fingers slowly card through his hair.

* * *

 

Eren wakes up, lips cracked and mouth opened in a silent scream.

_Tires screeching._

_Glass shattering._

_Armin screaming._

He’s still on Armin’s lap, and Armin’s snoring above him, head lolling onto the back of the sofa, and Eren breathes a sigh of relief.

_Armin’s okay. He’s alive._

Eren’s no stranger to nightmares, but re-experiencing the car accident, only this time in the dream realm, where things are ten times more violent, is terrifying. His heartbeat is still pounding like crazy, and he sits up slowly, padding over to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Maybe if wasn’t too scared to tell the driver to go slower. Maybe if he didn’t tell Armin to stop trying to convince the driver to stop being so reckless. Maybe if he—

_There’s no time for this._

There’s really never time for a breakdown, but it always happens anyway. Eren’s brain hates him like that.

He takes a low gulp of water, feeling the coolness south his aching throat, and he’s aware that his hands are trembling.

It’s so lonely being the only one awake when the rest of the world is asleep. It’s 3:00am, the bright lighting of his phone hurting his eyes in the dark apartment, and he allows time for his sight to adjust.

There’s no way he’s going to wake Armin. Not when he looks so peaceful. But he really wants to talk to someone because he’s so tired of dealing with his shit alone.

He unlocks his phone, and impulsively calls someone. Calls Levi. Oh.

It rings. Once. Twice. Three times, and then there’s a groggy voice on the other side. “Eren.”

“Hi.” Eren’s voice is barely a whisper, quiet so as to not wake Armin, and he sits on a chair in the dining room, leaning back as his wounds start to smart.

He thinks the bruises probably hurt the most, although the ache in his head is also rather impressive. His arm is less concerning, casted tightly and securely.

“What’s wrong?” Levi’s voice is rough from sleep, and it’s surprising somehow. Probably because Eren knows Levi doesn’t sleep much.

“You were sleeping?” _Guilt,_ an old friend.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Sorry.”

“I said don’t worry about it, didn’t I?” Levi snaps, and Eren shuts his mouth. There’s a sigh, and then, “Sorry.”

“You’re tired.”

Levi doesn’t even try to deny it. “Yeah.”

“I’ll call you back in the morning.”

There’s a pause, as if Levi’s contemplating something, and then, “Alright. I’m sorry.”

It’s strange having Levi apologize this time, and Eren hates it. “Please don’t. It’s my fault for waking you up.”

“It’s not.”

Eren feels like it’s his fault anyway, but that’s nothing new. “Go back to sleep.”

“Alright. Call me first thing in the morning, okay? Then we’ll talk about what’s bothering you.”

“You’re not my therapist.”

“No,” Levi agrees. “That’s Hanji’s job. But someone still has to look out for you.”

Eren’s never been good at opening up to people, but it’s Levi, so he accepts it, letting it envelope him. Even so, he doesn’t know what an appropriate response for the situation would be. “Just go to sleep,” he settles on, not unkindly, and then he hangs up before Levi can protest more.

There’s a stone, digging into Eren’s chest, his lungs, every part of his body. He doesn’t understand why this happens sometimes. He doesn’t understand why, despite now having a support system, he still falls back into old patterns. Why he still feels that heaviness fracturing his mind.

He digs his hand up his shirt and scratches the flat of his stomach, hard enough for it to hurt marginally more than expected, and scratches it some more. The pain momentarily grounds him, and there’s that twisted satisfaction again, bleeding into his brain, but also the feeling of _not enough._

Darkness, it seems, will continue to lurk as long as Eren continues to breathe.

* * *

 

Levi hasn’t slept for three days straight, running on tea and bitter coffee. And then Eren gets into a car accident, and he rushes over the moment his class ends like a madman, thinking the worst, only to be brought a sense of relief that it wasn’t that bad.

That Eren’s okay, and not critically injured.

Then he rushes back to work, almost late for his next class, dead tired, and finally gets home. Drinks another cup of coffee (fuck, he hates coffee) and orders pizza (fuck, he hates pizza) and grades more papers.

And then it’s 1:00am, and he’s exhausted, but every time he closes his eyes his mind whirls again. But there’s no way he’s taking those shitty pills that knock him out ever again, because the last time he took them (over two years ago), he slept past his alarm and nearly got fired. He should probably go back to the clinic and get a new prescription, but he can’t be bothered.

At around 2:30am, he finally falls asleep, only to be awakened by his fucking phone buzzing. And he has half the mind to ignore it, but he glances at the caller ID and it’s _Eren._

The first thing he feels is worry, and then, although he loathes to admit it, annoyance. It’s not Eren’s fault. It’s just that Levi’s burnt out, more than he’s been in years. And for some reason, red and blond hair keep flashing through his mind, haunting him, and he just wants to _sleep._

So he accidentally snaps at Eren, and feels like shit immediately after, but it’s too late because Eren’s already hung up, and Levi’s too tired to call him back, so he collapses back onto his bed, burying his face into his pillow, and tries not to scream because he’s a grown ass man.

It’s been a while since he felt this guilty, but his brain conks him out again before he can think too much about it, and the darkness swallows him as he runs into it, ready to be embraced once again by unconsciousness.

 _I’ll apologize in the morning,_ he thinks, right before he passes out. (He’ll regret this later. More than he’s ever regretted anything in his life, but he doesn’t know that yet. And so, he sleeps).

* * *

 

Eren’s realizes he’s about to have a panic attack about two minutes after he hangs up on Levi, so he locks himself in the bathroom because there’s no way he wants Armin to see him like this. It’s not as dramatic as the one with Levi that one time, though it’s rarely that dramatic ever.

His chest tightens, and his stomach lurches over and over, and he buries his head into his knees, squeezing. And he forces himself to _breathe._ Forces oxygen to wiggle into his airstream.

He doesn’t know exactly what triggered it. Maybe nothing. Probably everything. To be fair, it’s usually a plethora of things, building up day after day, and this is his brain’s way of letting it all out. Definitely not a healthy way. And definitely not pleasant, and really, Eren should work on not letting things fester.

But it’s too late for that now. Instead, he takes his good arm and digs the heel of his hand into his chest, gripping his shirt as tight as possible, trying to ground himself. It’s not working. He knows it’s not working, and the panic is rising at an alarming rate, forcing Eren to wedge himself into a corner of the washroom.

He stays there, forcing himself to breathe, and counts backwards from one hundred. _100, 99, 98, 97…_

He reaches one too soon, and everything sucks just as much as before.

_The sky is blue._

_Water is a liquid._

_Dogs are animals._

_Ice cream is sweet_

The obvious, simple facts repeat in his head as he attempts to distract himself. For some reason, even after all the panic attacks he gets, it’s never any easier.

He doesn’t know how long he’s on the floor for, only that it’s probably too long, and when he finally manages to take a deep, clear breath without choking, he nearly sobs in relief. Standing on wobbly legs, he walks to the mirror, quaking like a leaf, and digs his hails into his cast, pretending that it’s his flesh.

He’s so _angry._ And so _sad._ Not for any particular reason. It just happens sometimes, and then small things set him off, and now his emotions are trapping him in a cage, cramped and steal-bolted, a prison made just for him.

The reflection in the mirror is not any easier to look at either. Just as daunting, just as frustrating, and Eren hates himself. The contempt crashes through him like waves, and he _hates himself._

Armin’s shaving razor is already on the counter, sitting innocuously next to the toothbrush he brought, and Eren can’t stop staring. He picks it up, easily knocking the blade out without even thinking it through, and blinks a couple times, feeling his lips tremble. It’s an odd sort of detachment, and although he knows that he shouldn’t, he’s so overwhelmed that nothing’s coming through logically.

Eren twirls the razor blade in his hand, twirling, twirling, _twirling._

The blade is new and sharp, glinting in the yellow lighting of the washroom, and he wonders for a second how hard the blood with be to clean off—wonders for a second why he’s crying.

 _I’ll never cut myself,_ he remembers telling himself.

It feels like so long again.

He thinks of Levi, but it hurts too much to think of Levi, so he stops.

_I’ll never cut myself._

_Well,_ Eren thinks, _people change._

He tugs down his pants and touches the blade to his thigh.

* * *

 

With a yawn, blue eyes snap open, and Armin assesses his surroundings. He’s on Eren’s couch, his back aching from the awkward position, and judging from the darkness of the room, it’s nowhere near time to wake up.

But it’s strange. Armin distinctly remembers Eren falling asleep with him—on him—but now he’s nowhere to be seen. The lights to the washroom are on though.

He sits up, stretches, and yawns again, deciding to wait for Eren to get back for the washroom before trying to sleep again. After all, he’ll probably only be reawaken when the other gets back.

As his eyes adjust to the darkness, he takes in the surrounding. The apartment is pretty clean, there are bowls in the sink that need washing, but none on the counters, and no clothes lie on the floor. Definitely tidier than the Eren Armin remembers. But that was a long, long time ago.

There’s also a sort of relief from seeing bowls in the sink and knowing that Eren’s eating. He doesn’t look very well-fed. Eren’s always been thin, but he had a healthy appetite. Now he’s just small, and sad, and it’s extremely concerning. Well, considering what Eren’s told him during their video call not too long ago, Eren’s doing a lot better now than before.

That’s good.

He doesn’t forget what Eren told him though, about the bridge and the suicide attempt. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget those words coming out of his friend’s mouth, and how his heart felt like it stopped for a split second.

The thing is, Armin’s not naïve. He’s traveled, and experienced, and he understands death. But to be told how close he was to losing his best friend—well, that’s something else entirely. It felt like a vice grip on his chest, squeezing until he couldn’t get air in. In a way, seeing Eren has lessened that feeling significantly, but it definitely lingers.

As Armin slouches back on the couch again, he realises that it’s been quite a while and Eren’s still not back yet. And, sue him, he’s a worrywart, so he stands up and makes his way to the illuminated washroom.

Light, the only light really available, seeps through the crack at the bottom of the door, and Armin debates knocking. But if something was really wrong, knocking might ruin Armin’s opportunity to figure out what it is. And maybe he’s looking too much into it, but if Eren’s doing something he shouldn’t be doing, to hell if Armin’s just going to let him hide it.

So he doesn’t knock. Instead, he tries the doorknob as quietly as he can. It’s locked, naturally, but when he strains his ears, he swears that he can feel muffled sobs and sharp breathing.

_Well, shit._

Maybe Armin really should knock, but he doesn’t. Instead, he goes to the kitchen, crabs a toothpick from one of the drawers, and tiptoes back to the washroom. He’s glad that the locks to all of Eren’s washrooms are the kind that can be locked only from the inside with a twist and push of the doorknob. No key required. It makes picking them so much easier. Truth to be told, Armin can’t actually pick a real, key-required, lock. But this circular kind is easy.

He jams the toothpick in, wiggles it around, and rejoices at the click.

Yes, he’s invading a sort of privacy code. And yes, Eren would have every right to revoke friendship after this, but if he hears Eren’s stifled sobs one more time through the door and doesn’t find out the cause, he’ll be damned.

So he opens the door, blinks the light out of his eyes as his pupils rapidly constrict.

 _No, no no no no._ The sight that greets him eyes makes Armin rush over and gather a very surprised Eren into his arms.

The other squeaks, eyes blinking in a sort of panic as he tries to hide the blade, but Armin’s too quick and grabs the hand inflicting the damage.

“Stop,” Armin gasps. “No more.”

There are a dozen thin lines of red on Eren’s thighs, beading with blood, and Armin’s feels his throat close in dread.

“Armin,” he hears Eren’s weak voice, wavering, and glances at his friend’s red eyes, rimmed with tears. “It’s not—I don’t.”

“It’s okay.” It’s not okay. It’s very, very not okay, but that’s probably not Eren wants to hear at the moment, so Armin holds him even tighter, gently working the blade out of clenched palm, and sets the tiny thing on the counter. “Just stop, okay? That’s enough.”

He’s trying his best not to give in to the building panic, but it’s hard when he sees Eren in such a state. Shaking, breathless, twitching.

It’s the deepest kind of heartbreak.

“Let’s just talk,” Armin says as calmly as he can as he helps pull Eren’s pants back up, noting that they’re loose. He guides Eren back over to the couch, and then they just sit.

It’s quiet for a short while.

“I don’t want to.” It sounds almost petulant, and it’s much more like the Eren Armin remembers, but it’s also not quite as fiery. There’s no conviction in his voice, only exhaustion.

“You were cutting yourself.” It’s very hard to maintain a façade of calm, and that’s being said by a relatively calm person.

“It was an accident.”

“It was obviously deliberate.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I can call Levi.”

“Don’t.” The sudden tone surprises Armin, and the takes in the way Eren’s face crumbles completely, lips quivering as his shoulders start to shake. “He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

Eren sounds very much like a child, scared and hurting, and it tugs Armin in a way only his family can do. So he bends, resolve weakening, and nods. “Okay, we don’t have to talk right now.” It’s painful to say, but Armin knows when to drop it. “But when you’re ready…when you’re ready.”

The other give a barely discernable nod, staring straight ahead, and says, “Armin, there’s a notebook in my room in a sparkly bag. Can you get it for me? And a pen too.”

Armin nods, standing up. He doesn’t really want to leave Eren alone, but a notebook to write it sounds pretty good.

“It’s the door next to the washroom.”

Armin nods again, going to said door, and opening it. It’s pretty tidy too, and he spots the sparkly bag immediately, taking out the notebook in it. He grabs a pen from the only desk in the room and walks out quickly, not wanting to linger in the room longer than necessary. It feels like an invasion of privacy, which hurts in a way because Eren’s never felt private before. He’s always shared, at least until his mom died.

It’s a bitter type of nostalgic.

He closes the door soundly behind him, making his way back to the couch, and hands the notebook and pen to Eren wordlessly. He places a hand on Eren’s shoulder, and when Eren leans into him as he opens the minted pages of the new notebook, Armin feels himself ease. Not all is lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (spoilers): Eren cuts himself in this chapter and it's frequently implicated even after he cuts himself, so I advise you don't read this chapter if cutting triggers you. If you ask for it down in the comments, I can give you a brief summary of the chapter. 
> 
> The next chapter will be up next week, I promise. Also, SEASON 2 HYPE CAN WE JUST


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> triggers for mentions of self-harm and also Eren's kind-of-angsty and pretty shoujou manga-y journal entry. 
> 
> Also, this chapter is kind-of-sort-of-long-ish to make up for the period of not updating that will inevitably follow. Sorry. I'll try for one week, but we all know how that'll turn out. (i beg for forgiveness ahead of time)

It’s about time for Eren to write in the notebook Hanji got him. He’s been putting it off, mostly because he was scared writing down his feeling would make him feel like an angsty high schooler again, but he sucks that feeling up and stores it away.

Armin’s a comforting presence, so he relaxes, lets himself melt, and sets his pen on the paper. He thinks his words through carefully, willing to let them spill. Although it’s hard to maneuver around the bulky cast, he manages.

_On the night of Christmas Eve, I found myself walking without a destination in mind. It was cold, and wet, and I was angry. Angry enough to cry. I can’t remember if I was actually crying anymore. ~~Probably.~~_

_I do, however, remember kicking a rock and feeling inexplicitly shittier afterwards._

_Somewhere along the way, I decided on a destination, and it probably wasn’t one I should’ve thought of at all. But my feet carried me to a bridge._

_It looked innocuous, and I’ve passed by it many times before, but suddenly, in the darkness of the early, early morning, it appeared almost menacing. Shadows flickered across it, and the water was dangerously calm._

_I distinctively remember thinking, ‘I’m about to disturb the peace of the water.’ Maybe I even apologized to it. ~~I don’t know.~~ I don’t remember._

_I stood there for a while. I kept rereading my sister’s text, and I kept thinking about how she was abandoning me again. How everyone abandoned me. ~~I don’t think she intended to make me feel that way.~~ She didn’t mean to make me feel that way at all. But she still did because I’ve never been able to control my feeling very well._

_So I stood there, and it was freezing. I wasn’t wearing very much, and maybe I should’ve been scared, but I wasn’t at all. There was no fear. Only calm. I think, in that moment, I really believed I was going to die. I wanted to die. I’m sure of that. At least I think so. I was ~~sad~~ ~~depressed~~ ~~lonely~~ devastated. To me, at the time, there was no reason to live._

_So I got ready to go over the rails, hands clenched on the wet surface. It had recently rained. ~~Was it still raining?~~ The details escape me, but I know that one second I was about to jump, and the next there were hands wrapped around me, pulling me back. I heard the footsteps seconds before it happened, and I didn’t even have time to react._

_I remember screaming, shouting, hitting someone. But the person didn’t let go—he refused to. He was swearing at me too, I think. I was so ~~angry~~ destroyed. My chance, slipping through my fingers, the water still peaceful even though I had already pictured my body hitting it and shattering to pieces. In a way, everything inside me fell apart._

_He pulled me into his care and I swear I thought I was being kidnapped._

_But then he took me to his house, gave me clothes and warmth, and just let me talk._

_It was ~~the nicest thing I’ve ever experienced~~ exactly what I needed at the moment. I’ve never shared so much in my entire life._

_The guy’s name was Levi. I’m pretty sure I ~~have a crush~~ love him. I’m pretty sure he ~~likes~~ loves me too. I spent Christmas at his house, and we’ve been talking, and it gradually happened over the span of a relatively short time. It’s very, very ~~weird~~ ~~bizarre~~ ~~strange~~ nice._

_For someone who claims to be cold, he’s actually the warmest, softest guy ever. He just likes to pretend to be touch._

_~~Why did this suddenly turn into a love journal?~~ _ _I want to protect him. I want him to protect me._

_I also met someone else. Their name is Hanji, and as eccentric as they are, we click somehow. Currently, they’re my therapist and more helpful than I ever expected or imagined. Together, they are my anchors. And recently, my sister and best friend Armin have come back to anchor me too._

_I no longer feel as if I’m floating all the time._

_It’s strange, because even with all these people supporting me, I still find myself ~~breaking~~ constantly falling apart. It’s not something I can control. I ~~hate~~ despise myself. I haven’t loved myself a single day in my life, and I don’t know how to. Apparently I’m learning, but sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it at all._

_Today, I ~~fucked up~~ made a horrible mistake. It was a whim, and no one’s fault but mine. In a momentary lapse in judgement, I did something I promised myself I would never do. I don’t keep promises very well. _

_~~Why is it so hard to write about this?~~ _

_I cut myself._

_It shouldn’t be so startling to me, but it is. Sure, I hurt myself all the time. That’s much easier to admit. But I promised myself to never, ever cut. A part of me, I think, understands that hurting myself any other way isn’t actually any better than setting a blade to my skin. But with the absence of blood, it always felt_ safer, _until it suddenly didn’t._

_A small part of me wants to blame Levi, but I can’t possibly when he’s done nothing wrong. I know I’m needy, and the support I need is too much to give sometimes, and the hour I called him was really outrageous, but a piece of me fell away. It was, again, the feeling of abandonment. I think it’s pretty clear that I have abandonment issues right now, which I was not really aware of until I started writing this._

_Either way, I was out of control. A feeling I’m familiar with, but never to that extent. It was so ~~cold~~ robotic. I wasn’t hysterical or anything. On the exterior, I probably looked calm. And I set the blade from Armin’s shaving razor to my thigh and drew thin lines, and I never once thought they looked beautiful. But I didn’t think they looked ugly either. They just looked like lines. No blood dramatically spilled out. It bubbled to the surface and beaded, and stayed. It still stings, but not terribly. I don’t know. I think I was expecting more._

_I don’t know whether that should scare me or not ~~but I’m terrified~~. _

_I think I’ll call Levi back in the morning. I don’t really want to hide this from him, so I probably won’t. Although, I suspect he’ll feel unnecessarily guilty. Which is dumb. He’s dumb. ~~I love him.~~_

* * *

 

“Eren.”

“Oh,” Eren blinks phone up against his ear. “I was just about to call you.”

Levi’s voice is stunted from laboured breathing and, “I’m outside your apartment. Open the door.”

“Huh?!”

Immediately, Eren gets off from the couch, walking to the door, and Armin looks over from where he’s cooking breakfast. “What’s wrong?”

“Levi’s at the door,” Eren says.

“Yes, I’m at the door.”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” he spits into the phone, “I was talking to Armin.” And he knows he shouldn’t talk to Levi like that, but he’s at his wits end, and everything sort of hurts, and he’s definitely not up for human contact his morning.

“You’re angry,” the older male sounds tired.

“No.”

“Yes, you are. You have a right to be. I told you that you could call me whenever, and when you did, I hung up.”

“Actually,” Eren calms down, plays back the memory of several hours ago, and grimaces as he rubs the cuts on his legs through his pants, “I’m pretty sure I was the one who hung up.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Levi practically growls, and Eren looks to the floor, pausing in his steps. His shoulders rise and fall slowly, and he scratches at the cuts again.

“Look. I’ll open the door, and then we can talk.”

So he does that. He opens the door, and Levi’s standing there, low and behold, looking _guilty as fuck_ just like Eren predicted.

“What are you even doing here?” Eren asks because nothing is making sense, but he doesn’t really get surprised by Levi popping up anymore.

“I felt like something was wrong. You wouldn’t have called me otherwise.”

“You have work in like an hour, and I have work too.”

Levi looks over to the kitchen, ignoring Eren’s statement. “Who’s that in the kitchen?”

“Armin.”

Levi nods, walks in, and looks Eren in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

But then Armin chooses to walk in, plate of buckwheat pancakes in his hand because _“Working people need nutrition, Eren. I shall feed you from now on”_ and glares daggers. “It’s not fine.”

And Eren winces, opens his mouth to talk Armin down, but Armin holds a hand up, staring at the shorter, older male.  Armin’s mind cogs are almost visible, piecing everything together before tying it with a pretty bow.

Stupid genius best friend, figuring things out that he’s not supposed to.

“It’s your fault,” Armin accuses.

“Armin—” Eren starts.

“I know,” Levi says at the same time. “Something happened, right?”

“I just had a nightmare,” Eren says, and Armin scoffs, something that sounds strange coming from the face of such an angel. Except, if Eren knows anything about his best friend, it’s that he’s a devil in disguise.

“Bullshit,” Armin says. “You,” he points a finger at Levi, “are responsible.”

“Can I at least know what I’m responsible for,” Levi asks, raising an eyebrow.

There’s a conversation between Armin and Eren that passes in a flurry of eye movements, and Eren’s shoulders slumps. “I did something stupid,” he admits, “after I hung up on you.”

Levi doesn’t react much, but his fists do clench a little tighter. Other than that, it just looks like Eren’s confirmed something. “You hurt yourself again,” he states, and Eren flinches back.

Now Armin’s hands are clenched too, and he’s glaring at both of them. “Again?! I shouldn’t even be surprised, but honestly? You knew that Eren had a penchant of hurting himself and you still hung up on him when he called you? I know it wasn’t a great time and all, but you could’ve listened.”

“Armin.” Eren has his serious voice on, and he’s so tired. He hates yelling. He hates arguing. He just wants to eat and then go to school. “Levi,” he turns to the other male. “Yes, I hurt myself. With a blade. And—no, don’t say anything yet—and I know it was stupid, but I can’t change that now so please don’t feel guilty or bad or anything. And also please don’t lecture me. I’m not emotionally strong enough for that right now.”

Wow, this has never happened before. Usually, Eren would’ve probably let it go. Would’ve probably let himself be yelled at until he broke down. Would’ve probably not confronted Levi and just went on with his life with a dark, storming cloud suspended over his head. But that was before. And sure, Eren didn’t start the confrontation this time, but he didn’t shut it down either.

Progress. (And also regression, but he doesn’t like to think about that).

“Shit,” Levi moves forward two steps and throws his arms around Eren, trembling. “Shit, shit, shit.” This, somehow, _does_ surprise Eren.

He stands stock still for a second before unraveling unbroken arm, wrapping it around Levi too, and Eren feels like his age for the first time in a long, long while. He’s used to feeling old, worn down, achy and pained, but now he feels young. Young, scared, and desperate for comfort. He buries his face into Levi’s shoulder, and Armin stands there, a hand on his hip as he looks at them, lips pursed.

“Please let go of my best friend.”

“Please don’t,” Eren counters, and Armin sighs, but he doesn’t say anything else.

Levi doesn’t let go. Instead, he holds on tighter.

* * *

 

“Hanji, shit, I need help.” Levi sits at the bar, nursing a glass of red wine, bags stretching for miles on his pale skin.

Hanji’s smile immediately flees their face as they take a seat next to him, putting a hand on his head. Levi never asks them for help, so when he does, they listen. And also, he kind of looks like crap and Hanji would have to be the worst friend to ignore him at a time like this. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Eren. He cut himself the other day. And I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m doing everything wrong.”

Well, shit.

* * *

 

“Levi told me something most concerning the other day,” Hanji starts, pen clacking against their notebook. “Care to share?”

Eren looks at the floor, ashamed, and he can’t even bring himself to be angry. Of course Levi told Hanji. He must have been scared. Scared for Eren, a concept so foreign he has trouble wrapping his mind around it. No one’s ever been scared _for_ him before until Levi and Hanji came along. Maybe Armin’s been scared for Eren before, but if that’s true, it’s never shown. But this is also different because, as well and good as Armin is, they were still kids when they lost contact. But Levi’s an adult with years of experience, and he was scared enough to tell Hanji.

“I…hurt myself.”

“How.”

“I cut myself.”

“With what?”

“A blade.”

“Why?”

“A nightmare.”

Hanji rubs their eyes, sighing, and, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have fired questions like that. That was crappy of me.”

Eren shrugs. “It’s okay.”

“No,” they shake their heads before smiling wryly. “Seems like we’re all making mistakes lately, huh?”

Eren swallows and nods carefully, wondering if maybe he should’ve asked Armin to stay. The cuts are a couple days old, long clotted, but the skin around the scabs are still as angry and red as ever. He probably didn’t take care of them very well.

“Was it just the nightmare?” Hanji’s voice is much softer than before, and much slower, and Eren feels immediately more at ease.

He clamps his lips shut and wonders how he should word it without putting the blame accidentally on someone else. “Didn’t Levi tell you?”

“I want to hear it from me,” Hanji says, which Eren hears as, _“Yes, but he was exaggerating and making himself out to be the bad guy so I want to hear a more realistic version from you.”_

“I had a nightmare,” Eren starts, “So I called Levi. Only the time was ridiculous and it was super early, and he sounded really tired. So he got a bit crabby, apologized, and then I hung up. Then I had a panic attack and did the…stupid thing.”

Hanji nods, jotting down Eren’s words presumably, and looks back up, a much happier smile this time, eyes mischievous. “Wanna know what Levi told me?”

Eren nods.

“He said, ‘I yelled at him like a fucking tyrant, and then he hung up, and I fucked up so bad.’”

“Huh,” Eren tilts his head. “That’s less than I expected.”

Hanji laughs.

* * *

 

“Go on a date with me.”

Levi nearly spits out the tea. And it’s expensive tea. Holy fuck.

Eren’s looking at Levi with those ocean eyes, Armin’s looking like a smug bastard, and Levi has no idea how they found him because he’s in an obscure café marking papers. So he says, “Don’t you have work,” and then, “Are you stalking me?”

“My work is done for the day. And only Armin was stalking you. I was dragged along, and I had a confidence boost from three cups of coffee this morning. Oh, and I also handed in a volunteer form Armin made me fill out that I’ve been ignoring for months. So today’s been okay, and I thought, when is another okay day going to come around? Better take advantage of it while I can.”

Levi nods, looks at Erens long lashes fluttering and hunched posture, and feels his heart speed up like a fucking teenager. The bandage still covering Eren’s head, as well as his cast, makes Levi want to hold him again, just to make sure he’s really okay, but he restrains himself (but it’s hard. It’s so hard). “I’m pretty sure we’ve already been on a date.”

“And look how well that ended.” He mutters, sending Levi a pointed look, and Armin giggles. Levi wants to bury his face into the floor.

“You told the blond coconut?” Levi groans.

“Yeah. Apparently Eren said you were a pussy and chickened out.”

“Armin!” Eren looks scandalized, as if he couldn’t believe his used-to-be-a-nerd friend would say something like that, and Levi lets out the laugh bubbling in his throat.

“Yeah.”

“So,” Armin says, “Now you have to make it up to him by going on a proper date. And ending it in a kiss.”

“Armin,” Eren says again, this time softer. Levi doesn’t miss the way his hands trail down his legs, as if feeling the scabs, and Levi’s chest clenches.

“You didn’t hurt yourself again, did you?”

Eren shakes his head, smiling a little sadly. “No.”

“The date,” Armin reminds him, purposely diverting the topic, and as if Levi couldn’t forgotten. He’s tempted to chuck the tests he’s been marking at the blonde’s face.

Their relationships is…probably not as good and Eren would want it to be. But definitely not terrible. The blonde is crazy smart, and way too sharp, not unlike Levi and his blunt words. So they have some similarities. It’s just that they got off on the wrong foot.

“I’ll go,” Levi says, pretending that his heart isn’t fluttering. But it’s worth the dent in his pride because Eren beams, and Levi can’t help it. He leans forward and presses his lips chastely to Eren’s soft— _holy shit, so soft—_ cheeks.

They haven’t really talked about the cutting yet. He knows Hanji’s touched on the subject, but other than that, Eren doesn’t seem to be opening up much. Levi still doesn’t know why he did it. Hanji’s not allowed to tell him unless Eren allows it, but Eren hasn’t said anything on the subject. The most Levi can do is make sure that he’s not hurting himself anymore.

He knows it’s not supposed to be easy, recovering. But somehow, he didn’t expect for it to be so hard. It feels like for every step forward he takes with Eren, they take two steps back. Before, when he dragged Eren off the bridge, he wasn’t thinking much because Eren was just another kid on the street. But now, he pictures the same situation happening, and he makes him wants to break his pen over his knee. Or kiss Eren to make sure that he doesn’t disappear. Or both.

Because the prospect of Eren killing himself is horrifying, and yet not completely unfathomably with where they are now. What smiles of Eren’s are fake? Real? How good is he at acting?

It’s impossible to say.

“What tastes good?” Eren asks, pulling out a seat and sitting down, collapsing right away as if all the strength has been ducked out of him. He sighs, stretching his arms, and Armin smiles fondly.

“I’m gonna go,” Armin says, already heading for the door. “Call me when you’re done.”

Eren looks like he wants to argue, but shuts his mouth instead, turning to Levi.

“The coconut milk, hazelnut latte is probably sweet enough for crazy young people like you,” Levi tries for a joke, but Eren doesn’t even react. Instead, he stares out the window at the street outside, almost like he’s ten thousand miles away.

“Levi,” he whispers, and Levi sucks up his courage and takes Eren’s hands, marveling at how icy they feel. “Do you ever just feel…lost?”

He looks at Eren and takes in the pallor of his skin and the dullness of his hair. He takes in the trembling of his legs underneath the table and how he’s using his cast to scratch as his thigh. He takes in how tired Eren looks.

“What’s wrong?” Levi asks instead of answering the question.

“Lately, it’s just, I don’t know what’s wrong. I look at the fundamentals of my life and everything seems to be in order. My job pays okay, my best friend is staying for a while, and I have you and Hanji now. But I’m still not…happy.”

Levi can’t say he understand exactly, but he understands enough to know what depression is and what it can do. “That’s not your fault,” is all he can think to say, and it sounds so inherently lame that he almost cringes.

“It feels like it is,” Eren says, folding his arms on the table and then plopping his head down. “It feels like I’m doing something wrong. Like, I’m being selfish and greedy or something. I don’t know. I just don’t think I should feel like this when so many people are having it worse.”

It’s not something Levi can think of an immediate response to. Instead, he stirs his tea before picking the cup up by the rim, taking a burning sip. The thing is, Eren’s life is pretty bad, but a bad life doesn’t necessarily make someone depressed. Just like how a good life doesn’t necessarily make someone happy. It just…happens sometimes. A shitty turn of events, a bad stroke of luck, or maybe just the brain being a little shit.

Levi takes a breath, setting the cup down, hating the way it clanks on the wooden table. A drop of tea spills out. Eren’s eyes follow it. “You don’t need a reason to be sad. You don’t need a reason to feel anything. They’re your emotions, and they’re valid, and what you need is to allow yourself to feel. To acknowledge what you feel. And to get help for it.”

Eren grins, head lifting, even though his face still looks shadowed. “You sound like Hanji.”

“Shit. That’s what happens when you hang out with them for too long. You end up turning insane too.”

“Nuh uh.” Taking Levi’s teacup, Eren takes a sip before returning it. If Levi was less of a man, he would be going on about _indirect kissing._ “I think it’s sweet, what you said. Thanks.”

Well, Levi’s never really been called _sweet_ before, but he it spreads a nice, pleasant warmth through his chest, warming him in a way even expensive ass tea can’t.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sup, it's been a while.   
> I've got good news and bad news.   
> The bad news is that this story is ending soon. The good news is also that this story is ending soon. No, not immediately. But I've got the ending planned out and I know it's coming up. I just don't know much many words it'll take to reach it. But soon. So don't be surprised when it ends is pretty much what I'm saying.
> 
> Regular warning for this chapter. So, some mentions of self-harm and general depressing things, but I don't think this chapter is super angsty (only minimally angsty. and good things happen too ;))

Eren and Levi plan the date together, and it feels like it has the same importance as planning a wedding.

-long weekend

-road trip

-snacks

That’s the basic conception of it, if they’re aiming for a brief summarized version. Certainly, there’s a way to be concise rather than just lazy, but Eren’s pretty bad at being concise. If he wants to be detailed, he’ll expand and expand and expand until someone tells him to shut up. So yeah, not happening.

On the bright side, Levi seems surprisingly down for a road trip. There’s a long weekend coming up. Four days. Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. Armin says he’ll man Eren’s house after forcing Eren to take time off work.

Actually, the road trip was entirely Armin’s idea. Probably a play to get Eren and Levi to have a heart-to-heart. Eren would’ve felt too much like he was abandoning his best friend to come up with such an idea, and Levi’s too much of an introvert.

Actually, introvert isn’t the right word to describe Levi, but neither is ambivert or extrovert. Levi’s just… _Levi._ No further explanation needed.

Eren kind of (really) loves it.

Levi taps the pen onto the paper, squinting his eyes. “What kind of snacks?”

Eren shrugs. He doesn’t have a high proficiency on snack types. “Something healthy-ish?” He suggests, and Levi nods.

“We’ll bring fruits then. Well, the fruits allowed past the borders. Maybe some trail mix. Granola bars. Rice crackers.”

“Potato chips.”

Levi gives Eren a pointed look, and Eren can’t help but laugh. “Healthy, Eren. I thought you said healthy.”

Levi writes it down anyway.

“Are you really down for this?” Eren asks, because he has to know. Because even though Levi’s shown that he cares about Eren greatly, it’s still hard to accept it. What if Eren fucks up? What if a road trip is asking for too much? It’s hours upon hours, stuck in a small car with another person. He doesn’t think it’s possible not to get sick of him. Hell, Eren would even be sick of himself.

But Levi doesn’t utter a single complaint. In fact, he looks kind of excited, something sparking in his eyes. “Yes. Fuck, I really need a break,” he groans, still writing the list.

Well, it’s true. Levi’s definitely looked better. He has heavy bags under his eyes and his usually impeccable hair is rumpled. Kind of dishevelled. His clothes look messily put on, and all in all, he just really looks like he needs to rest.

Sleep, for a long time.

Eren kind of feels the same.

His hands, without his consent and only half his knowledge, start scratching at the scabs again. It stings and itches almost unbearably, but he doesn’t stop. It kind of keeps him grounded and focused. The habit is terrible, Eren knows, but at least he’s not actively cutting his flesh. Well, at least that’s what he tells himself.

“Stop that,” Levi mutters, attention diverted from the list. He grabs Eren’s hand, holding it tightly. “Stop scratching.”

It’s embarrassing, to be caught, and there’s nothing Eren can really say. He forces himself to meet Levi’s eyes, swallowing heavily. “Sorry. I will.”

Levi looks like he wants to push it, burning holes through Eren’s skull, but he just sighs and returns to the list. Shivering, Eren rubs his just recently freed absentmindedly, chewing on his lower lips. The cast came off yesterday and he’s still getting used to maneuvering his arm around.

It’s hard to stop a habit from festering. Especially bad ones, and scratching seems to have become one of Eren’s. Sometimes he can’t stop. He’ll scratch at patches of skin until the outer layers break one by one, blood swelling to the surface, the skin around it puffy and red. Sometimes he’ll reopen his cuts, picking away the scabs with chewed nails, not even really aware he’s doing it.

He doesn’t tell Levi. He doesn’t tell Armin. He doesn’t even tell Hanji. He knows he should, but he can’t bring himself to because he doesn’t want to stop. The feeling that comes with it isn’t pleasant, per se, but he likes it nonetheless. Does that make him a little fucked up? Probably. But he’s already hyperaware of that.

“San Francisco is pretty far. Not too far though. Although, one long weekend isn’t long enough,” Levi muses, and Eren nods leaning over to help with the planning.

“A roundtrip from here to there is nearly thirty hours, right?”

Levi nods. “I can drive for eight hours a day with minimal breaks.”

That kind of sounds superhuman, but Eren doesn’t question it. If Levi says he can do it, he can definitely do it.

“I’ve never tried driving long distances. I’ve never even owned a car before.” Which isn’t something he likes to talk about, and probably something Levi already knew. Eren really, really wants this trip to work well, so he’s willing to drive. A guilty stirring in his gut tells him he should do more. After all, Levi’s going to be paying for the gas. And it’s his car, and his food, and Eren’s basically just along for the ride.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Levi says when Eren’s face starts the scrunch up. Gently, Levi presses a finger to Eren’s head, tapping it. “Stop.”

Eren nods slowly, pretending that there’s no blush creeping down his neck, and he looks at Levi who’s suddenly very close.

There are multiple options going on inside Eren’s head and a thousand different scenarios branching out, all of which seem too good for someone like him. All of which seem improbable.

For one, the situation isn’t romantic. There are no flowers, or dimmed lighting, and there’s no rain this time. They’re in Levi’s house at the dining table, planning a road trip, and Eren’s breath probably still smells like burritos from the chipotle they had earlier. And yet, Levi’s leaning in.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks.

“Yes,” Eren replies. Because he feels like a yes. Because if he stops now, he’s scared he’ll never feel like a yes again.

Eyes fluttering, Eren knows he should close them, but he doesn’t. He wants to catch the details. How the lighting slowly shifts over Levi’s face the closer he gets, and how his lips are kind of dry. There’s even a bit of stubble forming on the older man’s chin, his eyebrows relaxed, and he looks young. His eyes are closed though as he tilts Eren’s chin up. Their lips press together, slowly, gently, and Eren’s eyes can no longer stay open. They shut as he breathes in through his nose, wondering if this is real.  

Prying his lips open, Levi deepens the kiss, and Eren’s pushed back on the chair, trying to keep up. He has no idea what he’s doing, but it feels nice so he must be doing something right. His hands brush the back of Levi’s hair, touching the smooth skin of the nape of his neck, and Levi’s hands do the same. Eren shudders, feeling touches going down his back and under his shirt, coming forward to trace up his stomach.

He arches, pressing closer, pushing their bodies together until they have to break apart for air, untangling.

“I—” Eren’s flushed, and his lips are probably swollen, and he feels like he’s drifting a million miles away. Only in a good way for the first time.

Levi doesn’t look much better. His hair is even messier than before, his cheeks red, and he look… _happy._ He looks achingly happy, smiling in a way Eren’s never seen, and Eren can’t help it. He leans up and catches Levi’s lips again. Levi runs a tongue over his lips, sucking it gently, and Eren never wants to stop.

He wants this moment to keep going forever. He grabs Levi’s shirt, still kissing as he gets off the chair, and Levi maneuvers blindly until they hit the couch, falling onto it in an impressive display of jumbled limbs. Eren breaks away just to laugh, and Levi does the same before bringing Eren closer again. They sit on the couch. They don’t lie on it. No one’s being pressed down into it. It’s not hot, or aggressive, or rough. It’s not lustful or full of wanting. It just is.

Levi trails fingers down Eren’s cheek, tracing along his collarbones and down his shoulders, pushing his shirt away to feel skin. Eren can feel each and every pulse of Levi’s heartbeat. Can feel the heat radiating from his skin. He trails a hand under Levi’s shirt and touches the expanse of relaxed muscles over his abdomens. He reaches higher and feels Levi’s sculpted chest.

Hands tangling into his hair, Eren melts.

They are just sitting. Sitting and kissing. But it feels like so much more. It feels like everything but nothing at all.

Eventually, they manage to stop getting distracted and return to the task at hand at the dining table, but Eren can’t stop sneaking glances. He’s suddenly made hyperaware of every time Levi moves.

“One of Erwin’s friends is coincidentally getting married the week we’re going. We can use the wedding as a scape goat for an extended break,” Levi suggests.

“Wouldn’t you get fired?”

Lifting and eyebrow, Levi turns to Eren. “That’s only if I get found out. Don’t worried, it’ll work.”

Levi sounds pretty confident, so Eren trusts him, even though he still feels raw and open from the kissing. Even though it feels like he was an onion that just got layers and layers peeled away. “I’m pretty sure my boss would just let me have a break,” he says, even though he kind of doesn’t want to miss work too much. Mostly because he needs the money. But he wants this ridiculous adventure with Levi even more, so he tosses his worries aside for the time being.

“That’s good,” Levi muses, writing something else down. There are questionable moral compasses going into planning this trip, such as a teacher playing hooky, but Eren doesn’t really feel guilty about that. Maybe that says something about him, but he’s so _tired_ of this city and this routine, and he just wants to get out for a few days.

He wants to shed his skin and breathe in light.

* * *

 

“Are you ready?” Levi asks as he carries Eren’s duffle bag into the car. It has a couple changes of clothes, toiletries, and his phone charger. Nothing else.

“Yes.” He gets in the car and shuts the door behind him, unable to stop fidgeting, and casts Levi a nervous smile. “I’m ready.”

Levi revs the engine, pulls out of Eren’s apartment complex, and then they’re out on the street and it feels like a weight has been lifted off from everything. He rolls down the window and sticks his nose right up to the open air, breathing it in. The scent of cement and gasoline, something he never appreciated until just then.

He feels free.

Smiling, Levi turns on the radio, and it’s the most relaxed Eren’s ever seen him. The most relaxed Eren’s ever seen anyone.

 _“Have fun,”_ Armin had said as he was leaving, and Eren’s already having fun. The trip hasn’t even really begun yet, and he’s having the time of his life.

His head cushioned against the headrest of the car, Eren shuts his eyes for a moment, taking it all it. He can feel the vibration of the car underneath him, and he can smell the city air. It’s loud, and crowded, and monotonous.

“I never thought I could do this,” Eren mumbles to no one, but he hopes Levi hears anyway.

“Well, you’re doing it now. And you have a week to take it in before we come back.” One hand on the steering wheel, he holds Eren’s hand briefly with the other before letting go. “Enjoy it.”

They pass by the city painstakingly before taking to the highway, and Eren rolls the window back up, looking everywhere. He takes in the blur of sparse trees that pass, and the mountains in the distance. He’s never appreciated the mountains before, so used to looking at houses and buildings, but he does now. They’re still snow-capped, rivets of white veins crawling down their blue silhouette. It makes him want to go skiing.

He doesn’t know what song is playing on the radio, but he likes it anyway. Likes it enough to get a little bit drowsy. He was too excited to sleep much last night, and he’s still excited now. But not too excited to sleep. Still smiling, even though his cheeks have long gone numb, Eren curls to the side and dozes off to the sound of crows.

* * *

 

When he wakes up, they’re already past the border and driving along the I-5 highway.

“How long was I sleeping?” Eren yawns.

“A couple hours.” Levi’s eyes are on the road, but his shoulders are relaxed. The windows are only cracked open now that they’re on the highway, and Eren rolls his side up as it starts to get a little chilly.

The music playing in the car is so quiet it’s almost indiscernible, but he finds that he likes it as just background noise to fill the silence. He hums along to the tune when he recognizes a part, looking back out the window. The scenery at the moment is limited to cars and more cars, but it’s better than the walls of his apartment. He counts five white cars, two red, and seven black in the span of fifteen seconds, but it’s too much of an effort to keep counting so he stops.

“Are you tired?” he asks Levi, only to be answered with a shake of the head.

“I’ve driven longer.”

Fishing around in a bag of snacks by his feet, Eren takes out a pack of soy sauce flavoured rice crackers. He opens it and pops one in his mouth, coating his tongue in the salty flavour. He has half the mind to feed one to Levi, but he wonders if that would be weird.

But, to hell with it, he reaches over and sticks a rice cracker in Levi’s mouth, met only with minimal surprise.

“Thanks,” Levi manages to say around his chewing, acting like Eren just did something completely normal. Which he didn’t. Because feeding someone is weird, right? Eren doesn’t know. He has next to no knowledge on how relationships work, but he knows that he likes Levi and that’s enough.

After another hour, they stop for a quick break, and Eren gets out of the car to stretch, reaching high enough that he feels his shirt rise and the cold air hit the strip of skin. He doesn’t even notice when Levi comes up behind him, but he jumps when he feels hands tug the shirt back down. Eren looks at Levi and flushes, trying not to think too much as he presses his lips against Levi’s cheeks.

He fidgets under Levi’s scrutiny, and wonders if the other man will go, _“You missed,”_ and then kiss him on the lips. Alas, that doesn’t happen, but a gentle smile does tug on Levi’s lips which is nearly as good.

“How are you feeling?” Levi asks, walking over to the vending machine to get coffee.

Eren shrugs. On one hand, he’s really, really happy. On the other, he feels that maybe he shouldn’t be. He can’t help but feel like it’s wrong to feel so light when he has so many responsibilities he should be worrying about. Not to mention that he’s kind of tired even though he hasn’t moved all day.

Briefly, he wonders is Levi really does love him. And if so, how and why? Eren’s not really special. He’s personality leaves much to be desired and sometimes it’s hard for him to even leave the house. He gets lonely too easily, and he’s clingy one day but repulsed by touch the next. He’s hard to get along with, and has a bad tendency of pushing people away, and he doesn’t understand what Levi sees in him.

Surely he must be too young. Too stupid. Levi’s seen too much shit in his life to deal with more shit. But also, Eren likes Levi a lot. He loves Levi, and even though he wonders things like this, he doesn’t really want to say anything because what if it ruins things? Why does he need constant reassurance when he could just trust? Why is it so hard to trust?

“You…like being with me, right?” Eren mumbles, rubbing his hands over his thighs before an itching sting reminds him of what’s there.

“What?” Levi drinks from his canned coffee, walking back to the car, but pauses as Eren speaks. “I wouldn’t be with you otherwise.” He raises an eyebrow, taking Eren’s hand.

Eren looks to the ground, feeling his lips tug. “Thanks.”

They both get back into the car, and nothing more is said of the subject, but it’s enough for now. He trusts Levi. Not enough to erase the doubt, but enough to put him at ease.

“I’m good for another couple of hours,” Levi says, putting the coffee in the cup holder, “so you won’t have to worry about driving for a bit.”

Eren nods, thinking that it’s not fair that the seats of the car are so far apart, and that he really wants to feel another human’s (preferably Levi’s) warmth at the moment. Instead, all he gets is a foot of distance between them, just far enough to make him feel cold.

Happiness is something he doesn’t understand at all. It’s fleeting, there for a minute and gone the next. Capricious and terrible to deal with. He reaches on the tendrils of his mind, trying to grasp for it, but the remaining wisps of it fade away until a thick smog of desolation chokes him. He curls up in his seat, rolling the window down half way even though it’s dangerous on the highway. The suffocations makes it easy not to care.

Levi doesn’t call him out either. Instead, he casts a worried look to Eren and says nothing, tapping a finger on the steering wheel as he drives.

It’s kind of hard not to flinch whenever Levi switches lanes, or whenever there’s a merging point. Not because Levi’s a bad driver. No, as a matter of fact, his driving is really smooth. A little meticulous even. But sometimes Eren suddenly thinks of Armin’s scream and the world around his spins, and he gets a little scared. Levi must know this too because his driving feels almost too careful.

Being looked out for is nice though.

“Thank you,” Eren mutters, still looking out the window. It makes sense to him because he’s connecting the word with his thoughts, but he only realizes how random it must be for Levi after he said it. Eren has half the mind to take it back with a _never mind,_ but he doesn’t. He just brings his knees closer to his chest, taking off his shoes and tucking his feet in.

But Levi doesn’t ask questions. He just looks over at Eren again, maybe a little fondly, but Eren’s peripheral vision can only allow so much. And half of it might be wishful thinking. “You’re welcome,” Levi says. And then, “Pass me the coffee.”

Eren reaches over and hands Levi the coffee, only to end up feeding him a sip, which is almost overwhelmingly domestic. And then he feels stupid for being overwhelmed for such a silly thing.

When he sets the coffee back, he doesn’t turn to the window, instead, he watches Levi and the gentle shifts of light cutting into his face, smoothing his angled features. Levi’s actually very expressive. He gets these creases in his eyebrows, and his lips often twitch, reshaping his entire features. His fair skin almost glows, and if Eren looks close enough, he might even see a halo above Levi’s dark, parted hair. Except, he’s not really and angel, is he? More like a misunderstood devil. Or a cat. Maybe Eren’s a cat too.

“You’re looking at me,” Levi notes, and his mouth does that twitch thing again. Almost into a smirk, but not quite. Would a full-blown smirk look weird on Levi? Probably.

Eren doesn’t grace Levi with an answer. He _is_ looking, so there’s no point in denying, but he might combust if he opens his mouth so he settles for the next best thing, which is to continue looking.

Levi doesn’t call him out on it anymore, and instead focuses on driving, and Eren watching as the wind blows through Levi’s dark hair like a fucking anime, and settles for a thin shred of satisfaction settling in his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I really can't remember if I mentioned before if Eren was able to drive or not. But for the sake of this road trip, Eren can drive. And if I mentioned before that he couldn't, I'll fix it when editing the work as a whole (or if someone points it out). Plot holes are kind of inevitable at this point, especially since this entire story is a draft, so please stick with me and be patient. I promise they will be fixed. However, if you ever find plot holes, feel free to tell me. I need the help lol


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